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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26565637">JATP Prompts</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/spa_ghetto/pseuds/spa_ghetto'>spa_ghetto</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Julie and The Phantoms (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Band as Family, Characters Arrested, Cuddling &amp; Snuggling, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Gentle Kissing, Ghosts, Ghosts Kinda In Love, Grieving parents, Guilty Bobby | Trevor Wilson, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Platonic Cuddling, Protective Luke Patterson, Some Spanish, Suggestive Themes, a 90s kid discovering gay marriage, as well as Not So Evil Carrie, bobby really tries being nice, frantic spanish actually, protective bandmates, we only accept Not So Evil bobby in this house</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 10:13:52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>25,933</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26565637</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/spa_ghetto/pseuds/spa_ghetto</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>a mixture of prompts from my Tumblr (the-edge-of-great if you wanna check it out, tell your friends!) and my own ideas!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alex &amp; Bobby | Trevor Wilson &amp; Luke Patterson &amp; Reggie, Alex &amp; Julie Molina, Alex &amp; Julie Molina &amp; Luke Patterson &amp; Reggie, Alex &amp; Luke Patterson &amp; Reggie (Julie and The Phantoms), Alex/Willie (Julie and The Phantoms), Julie Molina &amp; Reggie, Julie Molina/Luke Patterson, Luke Patterson/Reggie (Julie and The Phantoms)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>135</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>965</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. frantic spanish (juke)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>"Don't make me regret this."</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Don’t make me regret this.”</p><p>Luke scoffs. “C’mon, have I ever let you down?” Julie turns to give him a <em> look </em>, and immediately, he’s shaking his head. “Okay, don’t answer that. But I have your back, promise. If there’s one thing I was good at in school,” he says with a cheeky grin, “it was cheating.”</p><p>Her impossibly difficult history teacher has this excruciating ritual of asking a student a difficult question every day. When they get it wrong—not <em> if </em> they get it wrong, <em> when </em>. Because everyone gets Mrs. Garcia’s questions wrong—they have to write an essay on the right answer with research and everything. Most, if not all, of her questions don’t even relate to history. Sometimes, she asks English or math to “keep your mind sharp”.</p><p>Julie and Flynn always roll their eyes behind her back.</p><p>Yesterday was Taegan Matthew’s turn. Today, it’s Julie’s.</p><p>Luke is having too much fun with this. He slips past Mrs. Garcia with ease as she walks to the front to take roll call. He ducks under her clipboard like he’s competing in a limbo competition.</p><p>Julie’s bouncing her leg nervously, trying to focus on her teacher and not on how Luke’s doing. She can hear him mumbling, judging Mrs. Garcia on her pen color choice—“Who grades papers with <em> green </em> ?”—and her obscure amount of dog pictures—“Okay lady I like dogs too, but <em> dang </em>.” She glances at him, hoping to catch his eye so she can give him another look to hurry up! Mrs. Garcia is almost finished!</p><p>“—Molina? Julian Molina!”</p><p>Julie snaps to attention. “Here!”</p><p>Mrs. Garcia glares over the glasses sitting on the end of her nose. Her brown eyes are dark enough to be coal, and they’re burning into Julie’s soul.</p><p>Julie is frozen in her glare. She can feel her classmates staring at her, but once Mrs. Garcia has you in her sights, it’s impossible to look away first.</p><p>“Julia Molina,” she says, almost sings, mockingly. “Hmm. I believe it’s <em> your </em> turn to answer a question.”</p><p>“Ooooh!” the class teases.</p><p>Julie sinks in her seat, gaze drifting to Luke. So much for getting a head’s up. Even if Luke could tell her now, at the rate Mrs. Garcia is storming back to her desk, Julie’s time has already run out.</p><p>But as Mrs. Garcia rounds the corner of her desk—</p><p>“Oh!” she cries. She staggers into the wall behind her, hand over her heart. She begins sputtering out Spanish in quick, frantic sentences. With her other hand, she’s forming a cross over her body while her eyes are rolling to the sky.</p><p>Julie’s on her feet immediately, rushing down the aisle and trying her hardest not to look at Luke even though he’s scrambling to get away, just as freaked as the poor history teacher.</p><p>“Mrs. Garcia?” Julie says. She reaches a hand for her hesitantly. “Mrs. Garcia, está bien.” She slips into Spanish easily, earning a surprised noise from Luke behind her. While her teacher tells her what happened, Luke explains in English.</p><p>“I knew you wouldn’t have time to prepare for that question,” he says sheepishly, “so I… tried writing a new one.</p><p>In other words, she saw the pen moving on its own.</p><p>If she wasn’t standing in the middle of class with a hysterical history teacher slumped against the wall, praying to God to protect her from the <em> demon </em> that’s entered her classroom—wait until Alex and Reggie hear about <em> Luke the Demon </em>—Julie would facepalm.</p><p>The rest of class time is quiet reading and questioning looks between her classmates. Mrs. Garcia has to leave the room, and she doesn’t come back until the bell rings. Julie gathers her things and escapes quickly.</p><p>“I didn’t mean to scare her that bad,” Luke says immediately. “I didn’t know you speak Spanish.”</p><p>Julie nods. “My family is Spanish.”</p><p>Luke smiles. “That’s so cool.” His grin drops when he notices she’s not smiling with him. “I’m really sorry, Julie.”</p><p>She chews on her lip and turns to open her locker. “Well, you <em> did </em> save me from the question.”</p><p>He hums. “Yeah?”</p><p>“And… that was<em> kind of </em> funny.”</p><p>“Kind of?” He laughs out loud, and that makes her finally crack. “That was hilarious! I thought she was going to have a stroke.”</p><p>Julie snorts. Then she covers her mouth and stares wide eyed into her locker, embarrassed.</p><p>Luke leans toward her, tilts her head, and catches her eye. “That was cute,” he teases.</p><p>She rolls her eyes. “Shut up.” She slams her locker, turning to head to her next class. He falls into step next to her.</p><p>“So, need any more help?” he asks, brushing his hand against hers. They’ve been doing that a lot, subtle touching. She wonders if it’s as addicting to him as it is to her now.</p><p>Julie hums, trying and failing to stop smiling before someone starts asking questions. “We’ll see.” She side eyes him. “Thanks, though.”</p><p>He beams. “Anything for you, Jules.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. food poisoning (gen)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>"She had food poisoning." "She had WHAT?"</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The pillow on Julie’s bed is standing up on its own when Flynn rushes in to start packing a bag. She stops in her tracks and stares wide eyed for a few seconds before remembering the existence of ghosts. Right. Then she remembers these ghosts haven’t heard from Julie all day. <em> Right. </em></p><p>Luke suddenly appears in the middle of her room, strumming a few chords on his guitar to make himself visible. The look he’s giving her is heavy, full of so much concern that Flynn feels bad about no one letting them know until now.</p><p>“Where’s Julie?” he demands. “School ended hours ago. We had practice.”</p><p>Flynn shifts her weight. “Are the other guys here too?”</p><p>Luke’s eyes dart around the room, first to her bed then toward the window. “Yeah,” he says.</p><p>She nods at whoever’s on the bed before grabbing a duffel bag from Julie’s closet. He has to hurry; Ray’s waiting in the car outside. As she opens Julie’s dresser and rummages for an outfit, she answers, “She’s fine. She’ll be home tomorrow.”</p><p>A low hum cuts through the room and intertwines with whatever tune Luke is playing. When Flynn looks, another member of the band is sitting upright on her bed. He’s the other dark haired guy.<em> Reggie</em>, she realizes. She looks at the window. <em>Which means Alex is over there</em>.</p><p>“Is she staying with family?” Reggie asks.</p><p>Flynn chews on her lip. “She’s in the hospital, guys.”</p><p>The music stops for all of five seconds before it starts again. Flynn would have laughed if not for how worried they sound.</p><p>“The hospital?” Reggie repeats.</p><p>“Why?” Luke demands again. He’s so <em> demanding </em> about her.</p><p>Flynn bites back a smile. <em> He’s made of air, remember? </em> She stuffs two shirts along with a pair of sweats and shorts. Then she rises to her feet and turns to them.</p><p>“She had food poisoning,” she explains. </p><p>If they had color in their faces to begin with, it’d be gone. They stare as if their hearts have stopped all over again.</p><p>“She had <em> what </em>?!” Luke cries.</p><p>“Something at school had a ton of other kids sick. She has to stay overnight in the hospital, but she’ll be fine.” Flynn waves them off like it’s no big deal. For a long time, as she finishes gathering clothes for Julie, she thinks they’re overreacting. There <em> was </em> food poisoning in the 90s, right? Why do they sound like she almost died?</p><p>And then…</p><p>She straightens her shoulders. </p><p><em> Oh </em>.</p><p>“She’s going to be okay,” she finds herself saying, turning to them quickly. They’re watching like they don’t believe her. So, she tries again, slinging the bag over her shoulder. “Really. The doctor said he wanted to keep her overnight just in case, but she didn’t have it as bad as some of our classmates. She just got sick.”</p><p>“Can we go with you?” Reggie asks. “To the hospital?”</p><p>Luke has this look on his face that makes Flynn think her answer won’t matter. He’s going no matter what. Knowing that, she might as well make it easier for him.</p><p>“Sure.” She smiles when they do. “Can ghosts ride in cars?”</p><p>“Tell us the hospital, and we’ll meet you there,” Luke says.</p><p>They beat her there, actually. She can hear Julie laughing down the hall; it’s a nice sound in the otherwise quiet hallway. Ray and Carlos go down to the cafeteria for dinner,  thankfully. Flynn doesn’t want Julie’s time with the guys cut short.</p><p>When she enters, Julie looks at her with eyes shining under the fluorescent lights. “Hey,” she says. “Where is my dad and Carlos?”</p><p>“In the cafeteria.” Flynn drops the duffel bag next to the bed and points to a chair facing Julie. “Someone sitting here?”</p><p>Julie shakes her head. “Nope. Reggie’s at the window—” she points to each spot—“Alex is at the end of the bed, and Luke is next to me.”</p><p>“Sweet.” Flynn takes the seat and props her feet up on Julie’s bed. “How bad did they scare you when they jumped in here?”</p><p>Julie laughs. “Actually, they showed up right when the nurse was doing her hourly vital check. So, my heart rate spiked suddenly.”</p><p>Flynn’s head falls back as she laughs out loud.</p><p>“Yeah.” Julie’s grinning. “Hard to explain.” She looks over at Luke as he, probably, says something. Then she says to Flynn, “Hey, can you shut the door? Luke wants to play something.”</p><p>“Okay, but—” Flynn pushes the door shut and returns to her seat— “he has to be quiet. We <em> are </em> in a hospital.”</p><p>Luke appears in the blink of an eye with his guitar in his arms, strumming the same tune from earlier. “I’ll be quiet,” he promises, “but <em> you </em> missed band practice.” He smiles at Julie in such a soft way that makes Flynn’s heart flutter <em> for </em> her. Air or not, she has to admit he’s a cutie.</p><p>“Well I have to get going,” Flynn says, rising to her feet. “Some of us actually have school tomorrow.” She reaches for Julie’s hand.</p><p>“Thank you for the clothes,” Julie says. “And for bringing them.”</p><p>Flynn huffs a laugh. “You’re welcome. Don’t think there was any stopping them, honestly.” She smirks at Luke, who smiles in return. Looking back at Julie, she says, “Night Jules. Feel better, okay?”</p><p>“I’ll try. Night, Flynn.”</p><p>As Flynn turns to leave, Luke is already beginning to sing. He’s quiet and gentle, the chords just loud enough to keep him tethered to the physical world. She knows Julie won’t be able to stop smiling for the rest of the night.</p><p>She wants to stay and listen in, but her dad’s already texted twice about homework. So, she slips out the door, shutting it soundlessly behind her. There’s a smile on her face as she heads for the car because she knows, despite the realness of those guys, that she’s leaving her best friend in good hands.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. just use a fake on the police:) (the guys)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>"We got arrested."</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s one AM, apparently. Luke wakes Alex with the phone call. Whoops. He excuses the short, grumpy responses from Alex when he asks the time. Then, when he feels Alex is awake enough to understand, he drops the bomb: “We got arrested.”</p><p>Alex inhales sharply. “<em>We</em>?”</p><p>“Reggie and me.”</p><p>“Oh my god,” Alex mutters. “For what?”</p><p>“We, uh…” Luke looks at Reggie over his shoulder. They’re both sheepish, neither wanting to admit what happened. “Public intoxication.”</p><p>“No way.”</p><p>“… Yeah.”</p><p>“Dude, I can’t bail you out for public intoxication! They probably won’t release you unless a parent is there.”</p><p>“Yeah, but that obviously can’t happen,” Luke reminds. “That’s why I called you.”</p><p>Alex groans, and Luke can imagine him dragging a hand down his face. “There’s no way my parents are going to help. Maybe I can call Bobby…?”</p><p>“One minute,” the officer barks from the doorway.</p><p>“One minute?!” Alex repeats. “Wait, I don’t even know where you guys are!”</p><p>“If we run out of time, Reggie will call next.”</p><p>“Luke,” Alex whines. “You know I’d love to help, but legally, I don’t think I can.”</p><p>“Don’t you have a fake? Just bring that.”</p><p>“One, I said <em> legally</em>. Two, did you just tell me to bring a fake ID in to fool police while <em> standing in a police station</em>?”</p><p>Luke breathes an exhausted laugh. “Just trying to help.”</p><p>“Time’s up!”</p><p>Alex makes a noise of protest. “That was <em> not </em> one minute!”</p><p>“It’s okay,” Luke says hurriedly. He’s eyeing the officer, who’s making his way over to the phone. “Reggie’s gonna call back, okay?”</p><p>“Okay, but—”</p><p>
  <em>Click</em>
</p><p>Luke chews on his lip, training his eyes on the ground to stop himself from glaring at the officer. <em> That was hardly thirty seconds, </em> he wants to say. But Reggie is already reaching past him for the phone, and it’s okay anyways. Alex will think of something, and they’ll be out of there in no time.</p><p>Reggie plays with the zipper of his jacket the whole walk back to the cell. There are two other men in the cell when they arrive; they were there before Reggie and Luke and hadn’t been any trouble all night. One is still asleep against the wall, stretched across a cold metal bench with his arms as a pillow. </p><p>The other is standing under the only window in the room, basking in the moonlight and picking at the dirt beneath his fingernails. He looks up when the door unlocks. Reggie and Luke actively avoid eye contact. They return to their bench against a side wall. While Reggie takes a seat, Luke leans against the wall. His butt still hurts from sitting on the metal for two hours prior.</p><p>Once the officer leaves, the window guy makes his way over. He doesn’t look much older, maybe a few years on them. A few years is much less intimidating than the forty-year-old in the corner. Still, when Luke moves in front of Reggie and blocks the guy’s path, his legs are fear infused jelly all the same.</p><p>The guy stops in his tracks. He has Luke locked in a staring contest, and every passing second has Luke’s throat closing with fear. This guy has sleeves of tattoos and a cut eyebrow. When he smirks, it’s actually a snarl. The room is dead silent. Luke wonders how long it would take someone to come back and break up a fight. Then, he wonders with a heavy heart if anyone <em> would </em> even come back.</p><p>To his utmost relief, the other guy backs off. He returns to his spot under the window. Luke stays put for a few seconds longer, rocking on his heels, waiting for something more. He doesn’t realize his hands have been in tight fists from the fear until he uncurls them and his hands tingle.</p><p>Reggie grabs his wrist. “Sit down,” he whispers in the smallest voice he can manage. It’s weird because Reggie isn’t quiet. Ever. Usually, the other can’t get him to shut up.</p><p>Luke finally takes a seat, and already, he feels the pain in his back from the bench. Reggie leans against him, close enough for their shoulders to touch and their knees to bump. Luke wonders if he’s doing that as a reminder, like him looking back to make sure Reggie was still there.</p><p>He’s not sure how much time passes between Reggie falling asleep on his shoulder and the cell doors opening again. It’s been long enough for him to almost doze off twice and jerk awake both times after remembering where he is and what <em> could’ve </em> happened with the window man. The last time he’s beginning to drift off to sleep is when the locks echo through the room, and they both jolt awake.</p><p>Then suddenly, Alex is there. He’s frantic, speaking and moving as if the building’s on fire. There are tears in his eyes and down his face. His hair is dishevelled. Luke’s stomach leaps to his throat.</p><p>“Guys,” he’s saying, grabbing them both by a shoulder, and that’s when Luke realizes how hard he’s breathing, “we have to get to the hospital. We—Uncle Brian—He’s—”</p><p>Like a switch is flipped, Reggie is talking again, “Alex, buddy, slow down. Breathe, okay?” He takes his own deep breath for demonstration. “Breathe.”</p><p>Luke eyes the guy in the corner. “Let’s go somewhere else,” he mutters, shoving them toward the door. As soon as the door shuts behind him with them on the <em> outside </em>, he lets out a breath he didn’t know he’s been holding.</p><p>They have to stop at the front desk before they can leave. Luke handles paperwork and retrieves their belongings, since Alex has Reggie’s hand in a death grip and is still panicking for some reason. Once they’re free to go, they hurry out the front door.</p><p>Alex doesn’t let go of Reggie’s hand until they’re in the parking lot around the corner. He leans against his car, running his hands through his hair and squeezing his eyes shut.</p><p>“Hey, hey,” Reggie says, grabbing his arm. “What’s wrong? Talk to us.”</p><p>“What’s wrong?” Alex repeats, breathless. He rolls his eyes. “My best friends are idiots who got freaking arrested.”</p><p>“Well it wasn’t a picnic for us either,” Luke mutters.</p><p>“I didn’t know what to do to get you guys out, so I was just hoping a fake family emergency would work.” Alex presses his fingers to his chest. He pauses to work out his breathing. Luke and Reggie share worried looks. “Then,” Alex explains with a gasp, “I panicked over lying to the police, and that’s where the show came from.”</p><p>“Great job, though,” Reggie praises, laughing weakly. “It worked.”</p><p>“You guys owe me. Big time.”</p><p>Luke cracks a smile. “How about this: I’ll buy you lunch after band practice tomorrow.”</p><p>“After the next <em> three </em> practices.”</p><p>“Sheesh, you drive a hard bargain.”</p><p>Alex shrugs. “Shouldn’t have gotten arrested.”</p><p>When Luke and Reggie look at each other again, they’re laughing. Finally. Finally, they feel like normal again.</p><p>“And I’m crashing with you tonight,” Alex adds. “Don’t think I can handle being caught sneaking back in too.”</p><p>Luke nods. “Yeah, I get it. Thanks for saving us.”</p><p>Alex rolls his eyes as he unlocks his car. “You guys are <em> so </em> lucky to have me.”</p><p>As he walks around to the driver’s side, Luke turns to Reggie. They’re grinning, both from how right Alex is <em> and </em> the night they’ve just had. Scary? Yes. <em> Exciting </em>? Also yes. Bobby will find it hilarious tomorrow.</p><p>Luke slings an arm around Reggie’s shoulders and steers him toward the car. Toward home. Toward safety and a comfortable couch and the company of his friends, <em> not </em> the window man.</p><p>On the way, Luke falls asleep on him. Alex refrains from teasing (he’ll have all day tomorrow). And Reggie smiles; a reminder that they’re still together.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. big spoon (ruke)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>"I've been through worse."</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Reggie is half an hour early to band practice. He stumbles through the door, sluggish and clumsy with eyes so distant they’re clouded over. He doesn’t see Luke sitting next to Alex’s drum set, guitar pick in his mouth and a pen in his hand, writing and rewriting song lyrics. Or, maybe he just pretends not to. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Reggie?” Luke calls, maybe. He hears his name, but he’s been hearing his name all day. His ears are still ringing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Reggie.” He does hear that one—it’s more serious, closer than before. He blinks, and Luke is there, catching his arms and blocking his path to his bass. Luke’s eyes are narrowed, darting over him. Reggie hides his hands. Doesn’t want to talk about his hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dude, Reggie, what happened?” Luke grabs one of his hands. Dammit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I ran into a wall,” Reggie answers, pulling away. He turns to grab his bass; band practice is the one thing he’s been looking forward to all day. “With my hands,” he adds because he can feel Luke staring at the back of his head. “It wanted to fight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luke’s quiet for a few moments, and Reggie actually begins to think he’s going to let this one go. Then: “Did something happen with your folks?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Reggie sighs. Should’ve known; Luke never lets anything go.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They were fighting again.” Reggie turns to him with a blank stare. He’s getting good at those. “Dad yelling at Mom, Mom yelling at Dad, the usual.” He shrugs. “Then I stepped in, and Dad started yelling at me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He can see when Luke’s body stiffens. His shoulders rise to his ears, there’s a soft, sharp intake of breath. His eyebrows furrow with concern. Reggie knows he’s already thinking the worst. The worst is a horror story, stemming from a kid in their class—Josh, maybe—who mysteriously transferred schools after word got out that he’d been abused in his house. Josh’s parents fought like Reggie’s, but that’s where the similarities end. Really.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I did this to myself,” Reggie explains, carefully flattening his hands in front of Luke and trying not to wince in pain. There are a few cuts across his knuckles. Apparently he hit between his middle and index </span>
  <em>
    <span>just</span>
  </em>
  <span> right because the skin is torn and blood is running down his fingers. “It’s okay. I’ve been through worse.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luke laughs, but it’s short. Sarcastic. He turns to the cabinet next to the drum set and grabs a small box: the first aid kit. There isn’t much, only some band-aids, rubbing alcohol, and medical tape. Bobby suggested it after Alex’s hand bled from drumming blisters.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That isn’t reassuring,” Luke says as he waves Reggie to the couch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Remember when I fell out of the loft and broke my arm?” Reggie points toward the ladder. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>That</span>
  </em>
  <span> was worse.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luke begins wrapping his hand. “Yeah, that </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> pretty bad.” He snickers, sounding much more like himself. “Alex and Bobby were freaking out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, yeah. None of us could drive, and I needed the hospital.” They share a laugh, reminiscing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They did pretty well under pressure,” Luke reminds. “Alex and Bobby. You know, considering we were only fifteen.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank god they drove.” Reggie grins. “We would’ve been arrested in a heartbeat.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No way! I’m as good a driver as Alex is.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You were freaking out more than I was!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dude, did you </span>
  <em>
    <span>see</span>
  </em>
  <span> your arm? It was all bent out of shape—I thought you’d need surgery!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They’re laughing so hard now, Reggie doesn’t even feel the pain in his fingers. When Luke finishes wrapping his hand, he says, “You know, you can always stay here if you need to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where would I sleep? The ground isn’t that comfortable.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pretty sure the couch is big enough for the both of us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Reggie chuckles. “Okay, but I'm the big spoon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No way!” Luke protests.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You're shorter than me!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So?? I was here first!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Reggie smirks at him, and Luke grins in return.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Guess we’ll have to wait and see,” Reggie says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luke raises an eyebrow. He leans forward until his face is inches from Reggie’s, lips just a breath away from touching. Reggie’s cheeks immediately flush. He’s frozen in place, but his heart is beating faster with each second.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luke smiles like he knows what he’s doing, and you know what? He probably does. He’s probably reveling in it. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>knows</span>
  </em>
  <span> what that smile does to people. Damn him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Guess so,” he whispers. His breath makes Reggie’s skin tingle. He’s so </span>
  <em>
    <span>freaking</span>
  </em>
  <span> close. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luke kisses him first. He’s bold like that—closing the distance, making the first move. Reggie has always loved that about him. They don’t kiss for long because, Reggie thinks, they’re still new to this. Alex and Bobby don’t even know yet. They’re still figuring things out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But when Luke pulls away, he’s slow and teasing, tugging Reggie’s lower lip between his teeth before releasing him. Reggie’s lip is swollen red. He watches Luke with wide eyes and realizes: he wants more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Guess you’ll have to stop by later,” Luke says in a low voice, right as they hear their bandmates’ voices nearing the garage, “if you want to continue.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the end, Luke’s the big spoon.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. bittersweet (juke)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>"I'm here."</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s too late for her light to be on.</p><p>He’s pacing. He can feel <em> Alex </em> judging <em> him </em> this time.</p><p>It’s one in the morning—why is her light still on?</p><p>“Dude,” Reggie says. “Boundaries.”</p><p>“But why is she <em> still up </em>?” Luke argues. “She’s usually in bed by now.”</p><p>“Creepy,” Alex teases even though they’re all aware of her sleep schedule. They can see her bedroom window from the studio; each has noted when her light finally goes out for the night. It’s usually ten, sometimes eleven, rarely midnight. Never <em> one AM </em>.</p><p>“What if she needs our help?” Luke tries.</p><p>“Then she’d let us know,” Alex answers.</p><p>“What if she <em> can’t </em>?” He knows he’s getting ridiculous. Even Reggie is beginning to give him a look. Still, there’s a bad feeling in his nonexistent stomach, so he persists, “What if she’s, I don’t know—what if she fell and she can’t get up?”</p><p>Reggie chuckles. “Seriously?”</p><p>Luke huffs as he looks up at her window. “I’m going up there.”</p><p>“At least knock first,” Alex warns. “She could be… indecent.”</p><p>“<em>Indecent</em>?” Reggie mocks.</p><p>Alex shoves him hard, but then he scrambles to catch Reggie’s arm before he topples into the drumset and wakes the whole neighborhood. Reggie sighs with relief when he’s steady on the ground again.</p><p>“I’ll knock,” Luke reassures. He turns to leave, but before he does, he looks back at them. “Don’t piss off the neighbors while I’m gone.”</p><p>Reggie sighs heavily. “Fine. I was gonna hit the town anyways. Alex—”</p><p>Luke is in Julie’s house before he can hear the end of the sentence. The hallway outside of her door is still, like the house is holding its breath. He raises his hand to the door to knock, but before he does that, he hears something. It’s faint, soft, barely even there. If not for the silence of the house, he wouldn’t hear it at all. Sounds like it’s coming from… He leans forward, ear inches from the door.</p><p>Then he’s in her room, blipped in with a glimmering light. She’s on her bed—doesn’t notice him at all. A chest sits open at the foot of her bed, and clothes scatter her floor. She’s hugging her knees to her chest. Head bowed, hair covering her face. Muffled sobs have her shoulders trembling.</p><p>He’s on the bed in seconds, whispering her name, tucking her hair behind her ear. His fingers trail down her cheek and across her jaw. When her glossy eyes flitter to him, his everything stops. She’s got him captivated—utterly frozen in despair and worry and love, so much love for this girl with the puffy red eyes.</p><p>“Julie,” he says, cupping her cheek with his hand.</p><p>Her lower lip quivers, and then she’s against him, burying her face in his shoulder. His arms are immediate, acting on their own, wrapping around and holding her close. Fingers comb through her hair gently; it’s pretty but curly, her hair. She amazes him with how well she styles it.</p><p>“I’m here,” he tells her in a hushed tone. Anything louder must be a sin, it seems. “I’m right here Jules, it’s okay.” He kisses her hair,  rests his forehead against hers, rubs her back—small circles with his fingers.</p><p>“I miss her.” She speaks, finally. Though, Luke is wishing she hadn’t. Her voice is all crumbly and covered in fissures. It trembles on every word, like each syllable takes too much energy. Is this still Julie Molinas? The same girl with power when she sings?</p><p>“I know. I know.” His chin rests on her head. “I’m sorry.” He holds her tighter. Maybe he can create a cage that will protect her from everything bad. Maybe if he can keep her there, she’ll be safe and happy and carefree. He’d make it happen if he could. Anything—he’d do anything.</p><p>When she calms down enough, she starts talking. “I had a dream about her.” She’s stopped crying, and her voice is much stronger than before. <em> Good </em>, he thinks. “Carrie and I were at her house wearing Mom’s clothes, putting on a concert for our families, like we used to do when we were kids.”</p><p>Luke raises an eyebrow. “Carrie?”</p><p>“Yeah. I told you we were best friends once. I wore her butterfly boots—they were like clown shoes on me.” When Luke laughs, he catches a ghost—<em> ha </em> —of a smile on her face, and his cheeks begin to hurt from how wide he’s smiling.. “Carrie had on Mom’s leather vest. She loved leather vests when we were kids—she looked <em> so </em> cool. We had little concerts there every Sunday. One of his neighbors called a noise complaint on us once because Carlos hooked up one of Trevor’s guitars and turned the amp up as high as it would go.”</p><p>Luke snickers. “That’s <em> awesome.” </em></p><p>“Then that neighbor conveniently moved out a month later.”</p><p>“<em>Conveniently</em>.”</p><p>She chuckles, and his heart skips a beat. He swipes a thumb across her cheek, wiping away leftover tear tracks. They hold each other's gazes for a beat, then three.</p><p>“Thank you for coming up here,” she whispers.</p><p>“You’re not mad I broke the boundary?” Even as he asks, he knows the answer. He can see it in her eyes—she’s not angry.</p><p>Julie shakes her head. “I kind of wondered if you guys would notice my lights were still on.”</p><p>He nods. “Of course we did. It’s not like there’s anything else to do.”</p><p>She chuckles, rolls her eyes playfully, and tries shoving his shoulder. Instead of giving in, he presses closer. “Actually,” he admits softly, “Reggie noticed first. It was one AM, and he said you were still awake. That tipped Alex and me off.” He brushes her hair to the side, then his fingers trail over her temple and down her neck. “We got worried.”</p><p>Julie rolls her eyes. “Is it really so shocking that I’m awake this late?”</p><p>“For you? Yeah. You care about getting enough sleep and everything.”</p><p>“Wow.” She chuckles. “I didn’t know I was such a dork.”</p><p>Luke grins. He cups her cheek. “A <em>cute</em> dork.”</p><p>Her laugh is cut short by a yawn that she covers with her hand. His thumb strokes her cheek. “You should get to bed,” he says. “Can’t have you falling asleep in band practice.”</p><p>She huffs. “Yeah, <em>that’s</em> the most important thing tomorrow.”</p><p>“What’s more important than <em> music?” </em></p><p>“Try having that conversation with my dad on a school night.” She snickers as she pushes back her covers and crawls underneath. While she’s laying her pillow flat, he’s rolling off her bed. His work here is done, it seems. Now he has to go see what Reggie and Alex got themselves into.</p><p>“Luke?”</p><p>He can’t fight the smile that appears immediately after she speaks. He can’t help it—hearing his name come from her lips has this warm effect on him.</p><p>“Yeah, Julie?” he responds, turning to her again. She’s laying down now, bed sheets pulled to her chest and hair brushed out of her face. She looks up at him with her shiny brown eyes. They always have a spark in them, you know? Even under the Los Angeles moon.</p><p>She opens her mouth to say something, but then she closes it again. He frowns and steps closer to the bed. “What’s up?” he asks.</p><p>“Can you…” Julie pulls her lower lip between her teeth while her eyes drift, obviously thinking things over. “Can you stay?”</p><p>“You want me to stay?” The corner of his mouth curls.</p><p>“If you… You don’t have to. That was probably weird, I…” She shakes her head, laughing it off.</p><p>But he’s not laughing. Instead, he’s kicking his shoes off. He’s crawling back on the mattress, and he’s laying right next to her.</p><p>“This okay?” he asks, rolling onto his side to look at her.</p><p>Her smile is hesitant at first, then something makes her relax—and there’s that beautiful Julie Molina grin he loves so much. It’s contagious; he’s mirroring her in seconds.</p><p>“It’s perfect.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. splatters (ruke)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>"That's a lot of blood. Looks like someone died in here."</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>warning: suggestive content ahead</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The driveway is splattered with something red.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luke finds Reggie sitting at the edge of it, drawing a picture in the mess with his finger. He kneels next to him and jokes, “That’s a lot of blood.” He chuckles. “Looks like someone died in here. <em>Out</em> here,” he corrects.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then, because it’s Reggie—and Reggie would honestly never hurt a fly, but nothing is ever what it seems when he’s involved—Luke has to know: “Reg, </span>
  <em>
    <span>please</span>
  </em>
  <span> tell me this isn’t actually blood.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Reggie snorts. “Dude, this is like murder level here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know. That’s why I’m <em>concerned.</em> … Where’s Alex?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Already dead, so you don’t have to worry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luke chews on his lip. He moves to sit down and crosses his legs. “So, this was a solo job then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nah.” Reggie smirks at him. He lifts his finger from the red and </span>
  <em>
    <span>boops</span>
  </em>
  <span> Luke on the nose. “A <em>Molina</em> helped me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh my god, tell me you didn’t just touch me with </span>
  <em>
    <span>blood</span>
    <span>—”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not blood!” Reggie’s laughing now. Luke shoves him for making a joke out of something that is clearly freaking him out. Reggie catches his wrists, and great, now they both have possible-blood on their hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luke lets Reggie intertwine their fingers, even though he’s staring at their hands like he’s ready to rip away at any second. Reggie seems to know this too, because he holds Luke tighter.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“</span>
    <span>Paint</span>
  </em>
  <span><em>,”</em> Reggie says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Paint?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nods. “Carlos was doing an art project out here, but his paint spilled. He just ran inside to get Ray to help him clean it up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you’re…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Reggie points at the picture he drew in the paint with a proud grin. “Drawing totally accurate portraits of us, of course.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They’re stick figures, but to his credit, their instruments somewhat resemble how they should. Except Alex’s drumsticks just look like an extra long finger that extends to his shoulders. And he gave Julie a whole afro. At least he and Reggie are back to back with their guitars… a bit low on their bodies.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Think my guitar is a little bigger than that,” Luke points out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Reggie smacks him. “Those are </span>
  <em>
    <span>instruments</span>
  </em>
  <span><em>,</em> Lucas.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mmhm.” Luke places his hand next to Reggie’s hip for support as he leans in until their lips are inches apart. He bites his lower lip and looks at Reggie with a cocky grin. “And you play mine like a </span>
  <em>
    <span>pro—</span>
    <span>”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Reggie cuts him off with a painted thumb swiping across his chin. “Carlos and Ray will be out here any second.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The studio then.” Luke cups Reggie’s cheek and kisses him softly. Reggie melts into him, seeming to forget about being in the open immediately. But voices from the back porch pull him back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alex,” Reggie warns.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luke raises an eyebrow. “The loft.” He peppers kisses across Reggie’s jaw. “A quickie,” he whispers, teeth dragging across the shell of Reggie’s ear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The loft,” Reggie agrees, breathless.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luke smirks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Ray and Carlos reach the driveway, they’re gone, already lost in each other.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. you vs us (juke, the guys)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>"I'm going to protect you."</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>So, there’s this guy.</p><p>Man, actually. He’s old—<em> super </em> old, like <em> twenty-five </em>—with a receded hairline and dulling gray eyes. He shows up one day in October, completely out of the blue. Julie sees him a lot around school, usually milling about the hallways in regular clothes. At first, she thinks he’s a confused parent, lost trying to find the front office. After she sees him every day for a week, she considers him a janitor. But then, where is his uniform? His mop? His custodian supply cart? And he doesn’t speak to anyone in the halls like the other janitors do. No one makes an effort toward him, either. He’s weird; Julie can’t figure him out.</p><p>On Monday, one week after she first began seeing him, he makes his first move. He’s standing right outside of the music room. Julie doesn’t see him until she’s turning to leave with Flynn falling into step next to her, and he’s standing right in the doorway. Her classmates are filing into the hall, oblivious. <em> Passing right through him. </em> Julie stops in her tracks.</p><p>She thinks, <em> another ghost? </em> She can see another ghost?</p><p>He’s friendly when she passes. “Hello,” he says, all grin. “Great singing in there. Sounded beautiful.”</p><p>She smiles to be polite—realizing too late that she doesn’t have to react to him; as far as he knows, she can’t see ghosts! But the damage is done, she can tell. His face lights up when she reacts to him, and really, her heart aches. Who knows how long he’s been dead? What if she’s the first person to see him since he became a ghost?</p><p>On Tuesday, he’s walking with her in the halls, chatting about famous composers ranging from Beethoven to Queen. She’s pretending not to hear him and picking up her pace, hoping to lose him in the crowd. He never disappears; ghosts are fast.</p><p>Wednesday, she sees him at home. <em> At home! </em> She’s eating dinner with her family that evening, listening to Carlos tell a <em> crazy story </em> about defeating the Big Kids in a playground baseball game. Something behind him catches her eye: a face. A whole face—the man from school! He disappears as soon as they lock eyes.</p><p>For the rest of the night, she doesn’t feel right.</p><p>Thursday after school, in the midst of band practice, something knocks on the studio doors. The guys aren’t bothered—confused more than anything—but Julie jumps. Her microphone slips out of her hand. That <em> has </em> to be him, right? Does she confront him? What if he’s evil, like Caleb? What if he means harm? What if he’s a <em> demon? </em></p><p>Reggie is closest; he fazes through the door, his top half disappearing outside. When he returns, he shrugs. “Nothing’s out there.”</p><p>“Sounded like a raccoon,” Luke says.</p><p>“Raccoons don’t knock, dude,” Alex argues.</p><p>“But they <em> can, </em>can’t they?” Reggie says. “With their little hands.”</p><p>Julie barely hears them. <em> He came to her house. </em></p><p>“Why would a raccoon knock on a door?” Alex asks.</p><p>“I don’t know, Alex! Maybe after a life of crime, they want to do something <em> nice </em> for once!” Reggie defended.</p><p>She doesn’t notice Luke’s moved in front of her, but then he takes her hand, and she jolts back to reality. “Julie?” he says softly. He’s frowning at her, eyebrows drawn with concern and eyes sweeping over her. “What’s wrong?”</p><p>“There’s a guy at school,” she explains slowly. “A ghost guy.”</p><p>Luke frowns. She can see the muscles in his jaw clench. “What do you mean a <em> ghost </em> guy?” he repeats slowly.</p><p>Friday morning, Julie is flanked by her band. They start off as her own personal bodyguards, walking with her through the halls in a formation that would rival the secret service and pretending to question anyone who got close, as if their words could actually be heard by someone other than her.</p><p>But then… she loses Alex to the gym when he sees Dirty Candy practicing a routine—he promises to be back <em> after this song! </em></p><p>And then… she loses Reggie to the band room where—she notices in only a glimpse as they pass—a group of kids are absolutely shredding it on the saxophone.</p><p>By her music period, the only one remaining is Luke.</p><p>“I should’ve known you’d be the last one standing,” she jokes into her phone. “Actually, the only thing I was sure of was that we’d lose Reggie before lunch.”</p><p>“I bet Alex that Reggie would disappear <em> much </em> quicker,” Luke says. They share a smile.</p><p>Julie leans against her locker, hugging her books to her chest and scanning the hallway. “I’m kind of freaked by all of this,” she admits. “I thought the only ghosts I had to worry about were you guys.”</p><p>Luke shrugs. “We figured you could just see all ghosts. There are people like that, apparently.”</p><p>“I wonder if they get harassed too.”</p><p>“Julie,” he says, suddenly serious as he turns to her, “listen. This guy isn’t going to keep harassing you, okay?”</p><p>“But how are we supposed to stop a ghost?”</p><p>“I don’t know yet, but trust me.” He leans close, takes her hand in his, and smiles. “I’m going to protect you, alright?”</p><p>She chuckles. “My hero.”</p><p>By the middle of class, Alex has found his way back. They’re standing along the wall, a few rows behind Julie. Reggie arrives ten minutes later. Julie can hear him gushing about how cool <em> Dungeons and Dragons </em> is now. She laughs under her breath.</p><p>To close the class out, Julie takes a seat at the piano. She plays a cover of a song, an upbeat pop melody that everybody except the three 90s ghosts in the back recognizes. Then, the bell rings, and the class spills into the hallway. Everything seems okay.</p><p>Until it isn’t.</p><p>“Beautiful song,” he says, appearing right behind her.</p><p>Julie scrambles to her feet. She moves around the piano quickly, dragging her hand along the lid and putting as much distance between her and him as possible.</p><p>Luke is there, immediately. “Hey man,” he says, blocking Julie. “What’s your deal?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Alex agrees. He leans on Luke’s shoulder. “We don’t like when weirdos follow our friend around.”</p><p>The guy apologizes quickly. “It’s just—” he explains. “She’s the first person who’s seen me since I’ve died.”</p><p>“Join the club dude,” Reggie says. He’s in the back with Julie, arms crossed over his chest. “Doesn’t mean you can be creepy.”</p><p>“Do you like music?” Julie asks suddenly.</p><p>He tries stretching his neck to see her over Luke and Alex, but they don’t budge. “Love it,” he answers, glaring at them. “I was in a world renown jazz band when I died. We were on tour.”</p><p>Alex looks back at Julie. She smiles at him. After a moment, he smiles back.</p><p>“Well, we know a place you can be seen by lifers and still play music,” he says. </p><p>The guy raises an eyebrow. “… Really?”</p><p>That weekend, the guys come home late. <em> Too late. </em> Julie’s been on TikTok for hours, laying on the couch in the studio, trying to distract herself. They took the guy from school to Caleb’s nightclub tonight. Alex spoke with Willie, and they were able to get him close. Not <em> too </em> close, apparently—Julie made them swear they weren’t putting themselves in danger for this. They just had to get in and get out. According to Alex, it’s supposed to be easy.</p><p>Finally coming home at midnight doesn’t feel <em> easy. </em></p><p>“Where were you!” she cries before they’ve regained their footing. She leaves her phone on the couch and storms at them. “It’s midnight! You left at nine! What happened!”</p><p>“Shh Julie it’s <em> midnight,” </em> Reggie says. “You’ll wake the neighbors.” When she glares at him, he jumps behind Luke.</p><p>“Chill out, okay?” Luke says, catching her arms. “It took a little longer than we expected, but the important thing is we’re okay, and that guy won’t bother you anymore.”</p><p>Julie huffs. “Really?”</p><p>“Yes, really.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Alex agrees with a nod. “He’s in a better place now.”</p><p><em> “Is </em> he, though?” Reggie asks.</p><p>Luke snorts. <em> “He </em> thinks he is.”</p><p>Julie sighs. She covers the hand still wrapped around her arm. “Thanks, guys.”</p><p>“You don’t have to thank us,” Alex says. He’s grinning. “We’re family, right?”</p><p>“Oh!” Reggie steps out from behind Luke. “Group hug?”</p><p>Julie chuckles. “Well actually, I think it’s time for me to go to be—”</p><p>Luke yanks her forward suddenly. She staggers and falls into his chest, and his arms envelope her instantly. She smiles against him; being able to hug has been the <em> greatest </em> upgrade. He kisses her forehead and she hugs him tighter as butterflies flutter in her stomach.</p><p>“We have your back, Julie,” Luke mumbles into her hair.</p><p>Seconds later, Alex and Reggie are wrapping their arms around Luke and Julie. She’s enclosed in a blanket of warmth, even if they themselves provide no heat. <em> We have your back, Julie</em>. His words echo. She believes it; of course she believes it. She has no reason not to.</p><p>“With us,” he continues, holding her tighter, “you’re safe.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. compensation (trevor/bobby)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>After seeing Julie and the Phantoms perform at the Orpheum, Trevor Wilson decides he needs to try making things right.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>As a teenager, it was an alliance between friends. Brothers.</p><p><em> Protect Luke, </em> they thought. <em> Keep his location a secret. His parents are being unreasonable. This is what he’s born to do. </em></p><p>But in secret, they knew. They shared looks over his shoulders, silent concern that they never spoke on. Never discussed because they took an <em> oath. </em> They took Luke’s side, always.</p><p>Bobby thought he’d get over it. He thought they’d make up eventually; they just needed a few weeks to cool off.</p><p>But then weeks turned into months. Luke stopped going to school.</p><p>And the Missing Person posters began showing up.</p><p>And then a year had passed. Luke stopped talking about them. The guys didn’t bring it up.</p><p>Bobby’s own parents never caught on to the extra person living in the garage. Luke slept on the couch, but when Bobby’s parents came over, he hid in the loft. Bobby snuck food out to him. They spent long nights in the studio on the floor, backs against the couch as they listened to Bobby’s cassette collection. So many almost-normal nights with his heart heavy with guilt eventually turned into a new normal. He shoved the guilt away and locked it up until it simmered into numbness he could ignore.</p><p>After they died, Bobby learned to block everything out. He liked to think he forgot; that’s what he told his therapist. His wife. His daughter. Maybe if he said it enough, it would actually happen.</p><p>The Pattersons invite him in with a smile. They’re warm, kind, exactly how he remembers. He wishes he could remember how to smile back at them.</p><p>Their house looks the same as it did when he was sixteen, celebrating Luke’s birthday in their living room. They didn’t stay long that day; Luke’s relationship with his parents was just beginning to crumble. He and the guys left quickly after cake because they had to practice. His parents weren’t happy. Luke didn’t care.</p><p>“How have you been, Bobby?” Mitch asks. He takes a seat next to Emily. She reaches for his hand; they smile at each other. Trevor’s heart hurts. “Sorry, you go by Trevor these days don’t you?”</p><p>Trevor nods stiffly. “I do. Yeah, um, I’ve been good. Things are good.”</p><p>“Working hard on your next album, I assume?” Emily says with a smile. “We have all of your CDs, you know.”</p><p>He swallows thickly. “That’s… actually what I wanted to talk to you about. I have something for you.”</p><p>The envelope is numb in his fingers as he hands it over. Emily’s warm smile never falters, though her eyebrows scrunch together in confusion as she grabs it. While she tears it open, Mitch asks, “What’s this?”</p><p>“Compensation.” <em> Twenty-five years too late. </em></p><p>“Oh my,” she gasps, sliding the check out of the envelope. “Bobby—Trevor—”</p><p>“I couldn’t track down Alex and Reggie’s parents,” he explains quickly, wiping his palms against his pants. “So, you’re getting all of it.”</p><p>Emily shakes her head. “I don’t understand. Why would you—”</p><p>And—how do you tell a secret you’ve kept for twenty-five years? How do you rip a bandage off that you yourself cemented into place years ago?</p><p>He was only sixteen when Luke ran away from home. Couldn’t tell anyone: not his parents or Reggie’s or Alex’s. It weighed on him like lead. He resented Luke for a long time. How selfish could he be to ask his friends to lie to their parents? To the police when they questioned Luke’s disappearance? They were teenagers. <em> Kids. </em></p><p>He was only seventeen when his best friends died. For a long time, he replayed that night in his head. He should’ve warned them about those street hotdogs. Should’ve tried harder to make them consider a diet change—he didn’t trust that street vendor; never did. But they <em> loved </em> that place, so maybe that’s where his first lie came from. His band was so supportive of everything, even his sudden decision to swear off meat. Maybe he should’ve gone with them, could’ve been the one to steer them away when the dogs tasted funny or called an ambulance to get them help faster. Maybe he could’ve saved them.</p><p>“I stole Luke’s music.”</p><p>He doesn’t hear himself speak. Did he finally say it?</p><p>Emily’s face crumbles. Mitch’s twists into anger.</p><p>Yeah, he said it.</p><p>“You what?” Mitch says. His voice is controlled; he’s never been the emotional one.</p><p>Trevor continues with a dry mouth because he has to; there’s no going back now: “My parents found his notebook in my garage after he died. I was afraid of what they’d do if they found out I’d been hiding Luke there, so I said it was mine. Then they read through the songs, and they thought I needed to share them. My dad knew a guy, they got me in a studio, and then—”</p><p>And then.</p><p>“—before I knew it… They were my songs. At least, that’s what LA thought. Then the entire US. Then Canada, England… It all happened so fast,” he added quickly, trying to explain better because they were getting angry.</p><p>“You never credited him,” Mitch accuses. “Any of them. They were your <em> friends—!” </em></p><p>Emily’s seconds away from breaking. She’s quiet when she speaks, soft as ever: “Luke was with you.”</p><p>“I’m sorry,” he says. His own eyes are filled with tears. “I’m sorry. He told me—told us to keep quiet. We promised, made an oath—”</p><p>“We told the police,” she continues, as if she can’t even hear him. Maybe she can’t. Maybe she’s as numb as he is now. “We bothered them for months after Luke’s disappearance, called every other week for updates. We covered the city in posters with his face on it. I just wanted to know that he was <em> okay. </em> That he wasn’t on the street somewhere—” Tears spill over her cheeks. She doesn’t wipe them away; her gaze is fixed on the check. “I drove down dozens of streets, checked every corner I knew of that had street performers usually, hoping I’d see him. Hoping I could… convince him to come home…</p><p>“And he was just—” Her smile is watery, broken. She finally looks at him. He wants to puke. “He was safe.”</p><p>Trevor’s shoulders tremble with the dam that finally breaks. “I’m so sorry,” he sobs. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know any better. I was—we were kids. <em> He </em> was a kid. He missed you every day. Never stopped thinking about you, even if he never said anything. I wanted to say something. I know Alex and Reggie did too. I think we just… we just…” He sniffs, wipes his eyes, rubs his hands over his face. “We thought you guys would make up. We thought everything would work out in the end. And it would’ve! I know it would’ve, if he hadn’t…”</p><p>For a long moment, they don’t talk. Nobody does; they can’t find enough strength between the sobs wrecking their bodies, making their throats raw. Emily cries into the safety of Mitch’s arms. Trevor’s fingers wrap around his own arms. He wipes his nose with the back of his hand, focuses on the window, on the bright sun pouring in. The curtain moves, he swears, but he doesn’t think anything of it. Even though he can’t feel the air, he tells himself that’s what it is.</p><p>“We were supposed to play the Orpheum,” he whispers, and his voice crumbles and gives on the last syllable. His head falls to his hands. <em> The Orpheum. </em> He was supposed to play the Orpheum with his best friends. They were about to <em> make </em> it.</p><p>Emily sniffs. She gently tears away from her husband, wipes her eyes, and stands. “Thank you for the offer, but we don’t want your money.” She leans over the coffee table to offer the check. “We don’t need it.”</p><p>It slips between one trembling hand to another. He stares at it:<em> Five hundred thousand dollars. </em> Should be more. Even if they don’t want it, <em> it should be more. </em> Five million. <em> Ten. </em> They deserve <em> so much </em> more.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” he says again, even though that carries no weight. No amount of apologies will bring Luke back. Or Reggie. Or Alex. He can’t fix anything. Actually, he’s probably done the most damage. Twenty-five years of <em> lies. </em></p><p>The sun is too bright outside. He stumbles through the yard, check clenched so tightly in his hand that the edges are cutting into his skin. The lights on his car flash like he’s just unlocked it. Or, maybe he locked it again. Doesn’t know; can’t hear. Can’t focus on anything except his band. His best friends. His <em> brothers. </em> They left him, but what did he do?</p><p>He stole their lives. Their dream.</p><p>Trevor stumbles into the door. His crying is louder inside, clogs his eardrums and rattles through his body painfully. <em> Everything </em> is <em> so painful. </em> He clutches at his heart.</p><p>The air conditioning is on full blast—the coldest it can go—when he turns it on. His windows fog up; he doesn’t notice.</p><p>Not until—something squeaks in his ear. He jolts in surprise, head whipping around in a blur.</p><p>There are letters, but they’re backward. There are also voices—he swears he can hear voices. Arguing, critiquing that sounds too much like—and then a word. A backward word. And when his breath catches in his throat and his body freezes over all over again, he knows he’s not as numb as he thought because he can see it. And he knows—he <em> knows. </em> It’s them. They’re there. Were there. Still are? Whatever it is, he bursts into tears again. Happy tears. Sad tears. So many emotional tears that his head is <em> spinning. </em></p><p>But his chest—his chest is loosening. There’s a weight disappearing. He feels like he can breathe for the first time in twenty-five years.</p><p>
  <em> Bobby </em>
</p><p>As the letters begin to bleed, a new spot of fog forms on the window. He watches in amazement as someone spells three more words. It’s Alex, he thinks. Has to be. After all these years, he still recognizes that handwriting—Alex has always had the best handwriting out of their group.</p><p>Once the last word is finished, they’re gone. He doesn’t know how he knows, he just does. And in their place, they leave reassurance. They leave peace:</p><p>
  <em> We forgive you </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. *~*~storytime~*~* (juke)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>"You don't have to worry about me."</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“You don’t have to worry about me,” she says, and she’s <em>lying.</em></p><p>There is something <em> up </em> with her. Does she really think she can hide it? From <em> them? </em> Luke laughs at the idea, but it’s in the bad way, leaving him in a mood that makes him want to end practice early, too. Of course, she set the vibe all on her own. What’s the point of rehearsing when their lead girl isn’t feeling it?</p><p>Reggie suggests following her to school. Julie never opposed the idea, not like the room boundary. She likes the company, Luke thinks. Of course she does; who wouldn’t want them around?</p><p>They split up because they want to explore. High school is <em> so </em> different in 2020. It’s the perfect people watching playground for Reggie. And Alex discovered a club for colors or something. Luke doesn’t get it, but Alex is <em> obsessed. </em></p><p>Luke stays with Julie. Really, nothing of interest compares. He likes watching her in class: taking notes, answering questions, skillfully passing notes to Flynn. Every now and then, she catches him watching, and she gives him that smile that makes his heart melt.</p><p>Everything seems normal, so what’s really going on here?</p><p>The first incident is at lunch. She’s behind Carrie in line. They reach for the last brownie on the dish, and… Carrie lets her have it? Luke’s eyebrows raise. Julie says something and smiles, but she’s just as confused. Her face is twisted in that cute, puzzled stare, like she’s trying to uncover the world’s secrets.</p><p>Carrie doesn’t notice.</p><p>Luke falls into step with Julie. “What just happened?”</p><p>“I don’t know,” she mumbles. Then she shakes her head. “It was nothing. Probably.”</p><p>“You and I both know it’s not.”</p><p>She takes her seat next to Flynn, and Luke knows they’re done talking. He huffs and poofs out to find the guys.</p><p>The next time isn’t until after school. Reggie and Alex are back—Reggie is rambling. He adores the computer lab! And the Smartboards! And just, technology in general! He’s going to be talking all day, it seems.</p><p>“Did you figure out what’s wrong with Julie?” Alex asks, interrupting the next rant.</p><p>Luke sighs. “No, but I think it has to do with Carrie.”</p><p>“Carrie?” Alex repeats.</p><p>Reggie narrows his eyes. “What’d she do?”</p><p>“Gave Julie a brownie.”</p><p>“A brownie?”</p><p>“A <em> brownie</em>.”</p><p>Alex frowns. “Girls are weird.”</p><p>Finally, they spot Flynn and Julie walking out of the front doors. They’re smiling. Laughing. Luke grins; <em> there </em> she is.</p><p>And then there’s Carrie steps behind, texting. The guys share uneasy looks.</p><p>Julie suddenly turns toward her. “Hey Carrie,” she calls. “Happy birthday.”</p><p>Everyone stops.</p><p>Carrie blinks, frowns, and almost, maybe… smiles? It's small, but definitely there. “Thanks,” she says. “Julie.” Her smile is gone in seconds. She flips her hair over her shoulder and stalks off.</p><p>Luke’s waiting in the studio by himself. He wanted to talk to Julie alone, so Alex disappeared to find Willie, and Reggie is in the house. Probably watching Ray cook pasta <em> again. </em> When she finally arrives, he smiles at her. “Hey.”</p><p>“Hey,” she mumbles, slipping inside and pulling the door shut behind her. As she makes her way over, he closes his notebook and tosses it on the table. Just in time; she’s on the couch, laying down next to him, and her head is in his lap.</p><p>Luke hums, fingers stroking through her hair. “For someone who says she’s okay, you don’t look like it.” </p><p>Julie huffs. “Yesterday was Carrie’s birthday. She had a whole party, invited all of the girls from Dirty Candy and most of the guys on the lacrosse team.”</p><p>“So?” he asks. “You and Carrie aren’t friends.”</p><p>“But we <em> used </em> to be.”</p><p>“Okay, you’re going to have to dumb this down for me,” he says with a laugh. He brushes her hair out of her face. “I’m hopeless with girl stuff.”</p><p>Julie chuckles. Luke grins—it’s always a win when she smiles.</p><p>“When we were kids,” she begins, “we had this tradition of baking brownies for our birthdays. Carrie’s dad has always been weird about the kinds of food they eat.” A pause. “… For good reason, I guess. But he loved the brownies. He helped us bake the first batch for Carrie’s birthday; I was spending the night there. We danced and sang to old music. He brought out his guitar and followed us around the kitchen, singing everything we did.” Julie laughs. “He was so dumb. I miss hanging out with them, though. I mi—” She sighs. “I miss Carrie sometimes.”</p><p>“It’s weird hearing Bobby being good with kids,” Luke admits. “He used to be terrified of them. His niece came over to watch us practice one time, and I gave her ten bucks to just mess with him all day.” There’s a ghostly smile on his face as he thinks back. He doesn’t let himself do it often, just like when he first ran from home. He couldn’t afford to think about it when the future was so <em> bright </em> … and the past was so <em> painful. </em> “It was hilarious.”</p><p>“Do you miss him?” she asks quietly.</p><p>He frowns. “Of course I do. I miss everything about my old life.”</p><p>“Right,” Julie says. "Of course you do. I’m sorry—”</p><p>“No, no, it’s okay.” Luke shakes his head. “Really.”</p><p>A beat passes. His hand falls away from her hair as she sits up. Julie turns to grab his flannel he left on the other end of the couch. Ghost clothes are weird. Apparently, lifers can wear them. Or, maybe that’s just a Julie Thing. Luke smiles at the idea; <em> a Julie Thing</em><em>;</em> another reason his girl is so damn special.</p><p>“That’s mine,” he mumbles as he watches her pull her hair out from beneath the collar. He reaches forward, fingers pinching the fabric to help pull it straight. It’s big on her; she has to roll the sleeves to uncover her hands.</p><p>“Think it looks better on me,” she teases, perhaps not serious at all, but she’s right.</p><p>He nods. “I agree.”</p><p>Julie blushes. He loves when she blushes—in general, yes, because she’s adorable, but when she’s flustered because of <em>him,</em> well… He grins at her.</p><p>“Do you…” She pauses, pulls at her sleeves, considering her request. Luke waits patiently, even though he already knows he’ll agree to whatever she asks. “Do you think you’ll ever forgive him?”</p><p>“Who, Bobby?”  She nods. He huffs, looks away, contemplates an answer. “Hell, I don’t know. Maybe.” Luke glances back at her. “Maybe if he had a good reason.”</p><p>Julie nods slowly. “That’s how I feel about Carrie. She’s the one who broke off our friendship, and… she never told me why.”</p><p>Luke takes her hand, thumb sliding over the grooves of her knuckles. “I want to hear more about you being a kid.” He doesn’t mention growing up around Bobby, but he realizes after that that’s also on his mind. And Julie’s a smart girl; he wonders in the way her eyes squint if she’s figured it out too.</p><p>“Only if you tell me about <em> your </em> life.” She grins. “I want to know <em>everything.”</em></p><p>“Deal.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. cupcake (juke)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>@smolfangirl on Tumblr originally posted: "Whatever you do don't imagine Luke asking Julie about the birthday cake on her mic and finding out it's for him"</p><p>then @unsaidlukepatterson reblogged asking for a fic, and, well…</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He notices one day while she’s at school:<em> She draws on her microphone.</em> </p><p>He’s careful with it, turning it over in his hands like it’s a prized artifact requiring the gentlest of care. There are flowers on it, beautifully drawn and colored in pink with green vines curling around the petals. Between the flowers is a tribute to the dynamic duo of her and Flynn: <em>Double Trouble </em>written within an action bubble. Along the side are three marshmallows, tiny faces on their small bodies and music notes around their heads—<em>ghosts</em>? The corners of his mouth twitch into a smile.</p><p>I GOT THE MUSIC with two connected eighth notes is written in purple at the base of the microphone. And just below that?</p><p>Julie arrives then, wearing her fuzzy slippers instead of the white sneakers she wore earlier for school. He grins at her, biting back a laugh by chewing on his lip. He loves the slippers. Really, even if she doesn’t believe him—she has and will always, he thinks, defend those slippers until she dies. He hopes they follow her into the afterlife.</p><p>“Hey,” he says, waving with her microphone.</p><p>She eyes it with a raised eyebrow. “Hey…”</p><p>“I was just admiring your doodles.” He tries handing it over, but she shakes her head. So he keeps it close, twisting it around to appreciate her artwork again. “I wanna know what they are.”</p><p>Julie laughs. “Well, these are<em> flowers</em>…”</p><p>Luke rolls his eyes. “Ha ha. No, I mean… Why <em>these</em> flowers? What kind are they?”</p><p>“I didn’t think you’d care so much about flowers,” she jokes, walking past him to the couch. She waves him over while tucking her legs beneath her. Luke sits close enough for their legs to touch, and maybe he scoots <em>closer</em>, but he’ll pretend like it’s an accident.</p><p>“I don’t,” he admits. “But I <em>do</em> care about why you like them so much.”</p><p>Julie presses her lips into a smile. “Well…” She reaches for the microphone, fingers curling around the base <em>just</em> beneath his hand, so her nails brush <em>against</em> his skin, and there’s a spark. He feels it immediately, rushing through his body like his heart is jolting back to life again. He glances at her, wondering if she can feel it too.</p><p>If she can, she doesn’t mention it. “My mom loved dahlias. It was her favorite flower.”</p><p>Luke moves his grip to point at the ghosts along the side—or maybe he slides his hand down so his palm is over her hand, fingers curling around hers in a move so daring, his nonexistent stomach is doing backflips. When he looks over at her, she’s already staring at him.</p><p>“What about those?” he asks with a grin.</p><p>Julie chuckles, rolling her eyes and smiling with all of her teeth. “Those are just… a couple of weirdos who decided to make my life difficult.”</p><p>“They sound like fun.”</p><p>“Oh yeah.” She hums. “I think I like the drummer the best.”</p><p>Luke snorts. “Yeah, okay. … He <em>is</em> pretty cool, though.” </p><p>“The <em>coolest</em>.”</p><p>He points at the cupcake. “What’s the story with this one?”</p><p>And then her smile is gone, suddenly. She’s got her eyebrows furrowed, her mouth open with words she can’t find, her eyes refusing to look at him. Luke sits up straighter, frowning instantly with worry. He’s immediately regretting his decision—what if it’s a family matter? What if it has to do with her <em>mom</em>? Oh no, he shouldn’t have asked. Oh no, oh no—</p><p>“It, um, actually…” She finally looks at him, and…? She’s nervous. He takes her hand now—brave and straightforward and comforting, he hopes, because it’s just him, and she can talk to him. <em>Of course</em> she can talk to him. She knows that, right?</p><p>“It’s for you, Luke.”</p><p>Now it’s <em>his</em> turn for his mouth to open and close, searching for a response. She’s got him speechless, though. A cupcake? A <em>birthday</em> cupcake? For him? He begins to pull his hand away, but she latches on, squeezing tight.</p><p>“I drew it on your birthday, after I learned what day it was.”</p><p><em>After I saw you with your parents</em>.</p><p>He swallows thickly. “Why—Why’d you do that?”</p><p>She shrugs. “I wanted to remember you, Luke.” When he doesn’t respond, Julie finally releases his hand to pull her own into her sleeves. She looks away from him. “I’m sorry. If you want, I can take it off.”</p><p>She tries reaching for it, but he holds it out of reach. “No,” he says, shaking his head. “No, it’s okay. I…” Luke looks at her, and he smiles. She immediately smiles back, face falling with relief. “I love it, Jules.”</p><p>“Really?”</p><p>Luke can’t stop staring at it. A cupcake for<em> him</em>. He’s grinning—can’t stop grinning.</p><p>“You could’ve drawn sprinkles on it though,” he comments, pointing to the icing. “I <em>love</em> sprinkles.”</p><p>Julie huffs a laugh. She stretches her chin to peek at the table next to the couch. “Well, give me that marker.” </p><p>Luke chuckles, handing it over. He lays his arm on the back of the couch while she pulls the lid off. She grabs the microphone and, to his surprise, leans against him while coating the icing in black dots. That spark is back; it’s making him jittery and smiley and<em> bold</em>: his arm curls around her shoulder and hugs her close.</p><p>“So since I have a whole drawing dedicated to me,” he begins, watching her work, “I <em>have</em> to be cooler than Alex, right?”</p><p>Julie hums, letting her face her head fall against his shoulder. “Maybe a little.”</p><p>Luke grins. His cheek rests on her head as he rubs his thumb over the cupcake.</p><p><em>His</em> cupcake.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. let me shine a light on this subject (alex)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>"That's legal now?"</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Ready?”</p><p>“Ready!” the guys call back to Julie. They’re in the studio, patiently waiting for the surprise she wanted to show them. She was eager about something when she came home from school and told them she couldn’t practice on Saturday. They might’ve been bummed had she not been <em> bouncing </em> with excitement. Alex had smiled fondly at her; excited Julie was his <em> favorite </em> Julie. </p><p>She promised to show them what was happening Saturday before leaving, and now they’re eager themselves.</p><p>Julie throws open both studio doors with a type of dramatic flare that Alex can respect. She saunters in wearing a gorgeous golden dress with lace shoulders, a sweetheart neckline, and a hem stops just above her knee, matching heels clicking across the floor. Her hair bounces against her shoulders: big and curly and gorgeous, like always. She’s wearing red lipstick, and her eyeliner is sharp and precise; Alex thinks it’s called a <em> cat eye. </em> There’s so much lingo he still needs to catch up on.</p><p>He meets her halfway with a grin and offers his hand. “You look beautiful,” he says, spinning her in a circle. She twists on the toe of her heel, and her dress flares. There are sparkles in the intricate design across her chest that glisten under the studio lights. Alex catches her around the waist when she stumbles to a stop.</p><p>“Yeah,” Reggie agrees. “You look amazing.”</p><p>Alex joins Reggie as Luke approaches. They share a knowing smile.</p><p>“Where are you going looking so good?” he asks, arms wrapping around her waist and pulling her close.</p><p>Julie beams at him. “A wedding for one of my friends from music class. Her moms are getting married.”</p><p>Alex blinks. <em> “Moms?” </em></p><p>Luke frowns. “You mean… two women?”</p><p>Like a switch, Julie’s bright demeanor falters. She pushes against Luke’s arms, frowning as she breaks away from him. “Yeah,” she answers, eyeing each of them carefully. “Are you guys… okay with that?”</p><p>Alex makes a noise—somewhere between a scoff and a snicker. Okay with that? Of course he is. But <em> confused? </em> Yes. Very.</p><p>Reggie nods, chewing on his lip. He’s trying not to smile—Alex can see the corners of his mouth twitching. “Yeah,” he says. “Of course we are, we just—”</p><p>“That’s <em> legal </em> now?” Alex blurts.</p><p>A second passes, but Julie’s eyes widen with realization. “95,” she mutters to herself, nodding slowly.<em> “Right.” </em> Louder, she explains, “Yeah, gay marriage was legalized, like, five years ago. Actually, a lot’s changed since the 90s.”</p><p>Luke snickers. “No kidding.”</p><p>“Oh my gosh, wait until you see Pride in June! LA has the <em>best</em> celebrations.” She shifts her weight, smiling sheepishly. “Not that I have experienced any outside of here to compare, but, you know what I mean. It’s so much fun! Flynn and I went with Sarah and her moms last year—Sarah’s moms are the ones getting married today.”</p><p> Julie is looking at him more than she usually looks at Luke—and she catches herself every time, quickly averting her eyes back to him and Reggie—which is really saying something. She can’t possibly know though, right? <em> He </em> certainly didn’t tell her. She knows neither Luke nor Reggie told her. Is it really so obvious, or could she perhaps… actually be a witch? Was Reggie on to something?</p><p>Alex rolls his eyes; he must be having an off day or something to really consider Julie being a <em> witch </em> and Reggie to be <em> right. </em></p><p>“… Or not,” Julie says, rocking on her heels and twisting the ring on her finger. She’s looking at him again, much less sure of herself than before. Reggie and Luke are staring too; Luke elbows him in the side and glares.</p><p>“What?” Alex whines, pushing him away. “What are you—Oh! Oh, I wasn’t—I didn’t—” He shakes his head at Julie. “I wasn’t rolling my eyes at you! I just… had a dumb idea… Anyway, I’m sorry, what did you say?”</p><p>“She said we could go with her,” Reggie explains. “To the wedding, if we want to.” He raises his eyebrows knowingly. How come everyone is so knowing toward him all of a sudden?</p><p>“You should,” Julie persists. “Sarah showed us pictures of the venue today at school. It looks <em> gorgeous </em> in the daylight—I can’t wait to see it tonight.”</p><p>Luke grins. “Of course we’ll go.” He chuckles at the guys. “I mean, what <em> else </em> do we have to do?”</p><p>So, that’s how they end up in the outdoors of Orange County. The guys ride in the back of Ray’s car—apparently, ghosts can ride in cars. Flynn doesn’t carpool with Julie; when the girls reunite, she explains how her mom decided last minute that Flynn’s hair would look better in a better rather than her regular braids.</p><p>They pose for pictures from Ray and the wedding photographer. Then Sarah, Alex thinks—a teenage girl with fair skin and copper red hair in a neat plait against her shoulder—rushes over with the biggest grin on her face. The girls gush over their outfits, the night, the decorations, etc etc. They’re cute; Alex shares a fond smile with Luke and Reggie.</p><p>“This place <em> is </em> pretty,” Reggie admits, turning in a slow circle to take in the scenery. They’re in a forest, surrounded by towering pine trees, and there are lights everywhere. Streams of globe bulbs are strung up from tree to tree, creating an arch in the center where a long, white rug leads to a stage filled with golden flowers. The sun was already setting when they left Julie’s house, so by now, the reception is a warm glow in an otherwise dark forest.</p><p>“Alex,” Luke mutters, as if anyone could actually hear them, and nudges his elbow into Alex’s side, “look around dude. <em> Most </em> of these couples aren’t straight.”</p><p>He noticed when they first arrived that men mostly stayed with men and women mostly stayed with women, but now that Luke has pointed it out, Alex is noticing that the guests are actually couples. A couple to their left is discussing the food. One man feeds the other a bite of a sandwich and gloats when his partner admits it’s actually <em> not bad.</em> To their right, two women are posing in front of the wedding photographer. One is kissing the other’s cheek.</p><p>“I think this is the most…” Alex pauses, trying to both find the right word and take it all in because, really, this is a lot. It’s a good amount of a lot, of course, but… These people are <em> openly </em> showing off their partners. They’re happy. They’re <em> proud </em> of themselves. And the straight people aren’t saying anything rude? No one is cursing at them? Claiming they’ve damned themselves?</p><p>“Alex?” Reggie asks softly.</p><p>“I know a lot is different from, you know,” Alex begins, “but I think this is the biggest change I’ve seen. I mean—” He gestures wildly at the scene before them. “This is legal! This is <em>legal.</em> They’re just—Everyone is just— <em> themselves! </em> They’re themselves, <em> and it’s okay.” </em></p><p>“I was gonna ask how you feel about it, but—” Luke shares a laugh with Reggie— “I think I have my answer.”</p><p>“I feel…” Alex rocks on his heels, considering his answer. He chews on his lip. “You guys will probably think it’s dumb, but—”</p><p>“You know we won’t think it’s dumb,” Reggie argues immediately. Alex glances at him. He’s giving Alex this <em> look </em> with a raised eyebrow, like he can’t believe he would even think that. Which is valid, you know, because they’ve never been anything less than supportive of Alex. <em> Of course </em> they haven’t; he really lucked out in the friend department.</p><p>“I feel safe here.” He shoves his hands in his jacket pockets. “Like when I could finally leave my house to go to practice, and I knew none of you guys would judge me if I told you about a guy that I thought was cute.” He finds Julie in the crowd, chatting with the lesbian couple he saw earlier, posing for pictures—<em> selfies </em>—with them and laughing when the woman’s partner hid bunny ears behind her head. </p><p>Alex rubs the back of his neck. “I just… I don't think I could’ve imagined feeling safe around people who aren’t my friends.” He finally turns to Luke and Reggie, who are watching him with wide grins. Alex huffs a laugh. “Stop looking at me like that.”</p><p>Reggie chuckles. He slings an arm around Alex’s shoulders. “We’re just happy for you, man.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Luke agrees. He hums. “Can’t wait to see what the whole thing with June is about.”</p><p>“Yeah!” Reggie exclaims. “D’ya think it’s a few days? A week?”</p><p>“We can ask Julie later,” Alex suggests.</p><p>Reggie snickers. “If she doesn’t stay with Flynn.”</p><p>Luke hums. “Yeah, I’m gonna… go convince her to stay home tonight.” He pauses to squeeze Alex’s shoulder before leaving them for the dance floor.</p><p>Alex suddenly steps away from Reggie. “I, uh… I’ll be right back.”</p><p>“Where are you going?”</p><p>“I just—I want to find Willie. I want to talk to him about something.”</p><p>“You’re really going to leave me third wheeling with jukebox over there?”</p><p>Alex snorts. “<em> Jukebox </em>? Have they approved of that name?”</p><p>“… They don’t know about it.” Reggie pauses, then adds, “And you’re <em> not </em> going to tell them.”</p><p>“I promise.”</p><p>Reggie chuckles. “You <em> better </em>. Now go, find your boy.”</p><p>He’s at the museum, the first place Alex looks. He’s just leaving actually—as soon as Alex arrives at the building, Willie is phasing through the door, about to skate down the street.</p><p>“Willie!” Alex calls. </p><p>Willie steps off his board. He turns to him, and instantly, a smile spreads across his face. “Hey, Alex. What’s up?”</p><p>“So,” Alex says, stopping in front of him, grinning, “tell me about Pride.”</p><p>Willie’s eyes shine at the request, just as beautiful as the lights from the wedding. </p><p>“I’d love to.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. i would have still followed you (alex)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>willex angst* i guess i should say</p><p>the request: 26 "i'm not fine. i know i said i was but i'm not" alternate version of after the boys console alex about willie. after one of the times they see him run off</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Alex held together long enough to practice Great a few times, and now he’s losing his will as Luke and Reggie are putting down their guitars. One of his drumsticks twirls in his hand. He’s tapping his foot anxiously. Maybe he could find a music shop to terrorize with a messy drum solo. At least he wouldn’t be seen there. Wouldn’t be bothered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luke takes two steps toward the couch before he realizes Alex isn’t following and looks over his shoulder. “Alex?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Reggie, Alex can tell, zeroes in on the spinning drumstick immediately. That’s always been a tell for his anxiety—a pencil, a drumstick, anything he can busy his mind with as a distraction.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not fine,” Alex admits quietly to himself, he hopes in vain. Not when he’s in the studio with only Luke and Reggie—they’ve got ears for detecting his mumbled confessions and things that sound Not Okay. It’s one of the features he hates and loves most about their friendship.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What was that?” Reggie asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not fine, okay? I know I said I was, but—” Alex sighs, runs a hand through his hair. “I’m not.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luke and Reggie share a look before retreating to the drum set. Luke leans on a cymbal stand and says, “Talk to us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He was just so—so </span>
  <em>
    <span>helpful,</span>
  </em>
  <span> with everything,” Alex begins with a heavy sigh. “I don’t understand how he could do a complete 180 like that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He probably had a good reason,” Reggie says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s a ghost,” Luke mumbles. “What reason could there possibly be?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Reggie rolls his eyes. “I don’t know. I’m just trying to</span>
  <em>
    <span> help.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m worried about him,” Alex says softly. Can’t stop worrying about him. Something is off; he knows it in his non-existent heart. Someone as bright and lively as Willie doesn’t just shut down after one night out unless there’s some underlying issue.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span> “And I feel like an idiot for it. Why do I care so much about someone who obviously doesn’t care about me?” He scoffs, rolls his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s been thinking about the whole thing a lot, but his mind—how is it his heart can stop working, but his brain still conjures destructive thoughts?—has a list of “underlying issues” that could be bothering Willie.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s only one name on the list.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” Luke replies sharply, “I know what you’re thinking. You caring about someone is not an issue, okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>dumb,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Alex argues. “He doesn’t even—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then that’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>his</span>
  </em>
  <span> fault,” Reggie states. “You’ve always cared so damn much for other people. It’s one of your best qualities, Alex. Don’t let him take that away from you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I…” Alex swallows his next words, walks around his drums, and shakes his head. They’re dumb anyway. Kinda pathetic, if you ask him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Luke pushes. Ever persistent. Fuck him, really. Sometimes. Ugh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alex doesn’t look at them. “Just thought he actually… I don’t know.” He shrugs. Sighs heavily. Fuck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luke and Reggie aren’t the best at words sometimes. But sometimes, words aren’t needed anyways, and they’re usually pretty good at picking those moments out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Reggie’s closest. His fingers hook around Alex’s elbow, and he pulls him into a tight hug. Band hugs are always tight, of course. Always strong, like they’re constantly trying to protect each other from the world. And Alex—no matter how cheesy this sounds—knows Reggie and Luke would sure as hell try.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t think being a ghost would be this hard,” Alex says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not,” Luke answers. “Everything’s just gotta be </span>
  <em>
    <span>dramatic</span>
  </em>
  <span> with you.” When Alex looks back at him, he’s smiling softly and squeezing Alex’s shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well—” Alex sighs—“I can’t let things get </span>
  <em>
    <span>boring.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Reggie laughs. He steers Alex to the couch, and he and Luke begin talking about the party that night. Alex lets them talk; he’s quickly falling back into his own head. He leans into Reggie, silently appreciates the comforting hand on his shoulder, and he watches the garage door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And he waits for Willie to show up again. Despite the guys’ recommendations to forget about him, Alex worries he’ll always chase after him. He made up his mind early on that he’d follow Willie anywhere.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And perhaps that’ll be his downfall. But, maybe the heartbreak will be worth it. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>hi, i just wanted to say real quick that i see every comment you all leave, and i really appreciate them!! thank you for everyone who's left a kudos or comments so far!! i'm really glad you're enjoying my writing :))</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. days like these (juke)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>wordless ways to say "i love you"?: kissing a freshly formed bruise</p><p>(from a prompt list)</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>me, really just needing some fluffy juke at one am:</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Days like these, she’s glad Luke is invisible to everyone but her. That way, her dad can’t see him in her room after school, showering her with kisses, holding her in an embrace that she’s sure the world could never break through. He can’t hear the stories Luke tells to cheer her up after her bad day, the mysteries of his previous life that he doesn’t talk about often. He can’t see the way Julie curls into Luke’s side, burying her face in his chest, forgetting about the world entirely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’s been in her room since she arrived from school. She doesn’t tell Luke why until she has to—until he sees the angry bruise spread across her jaw like a hurricane. That’s the beginning of where they are now: him leaning over her, fingers caressing her cheek and gently trailing across her jaw, and her catching his hands in her own, squeezing with reassurance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“An accident,” she promises. She shakes her head at his jaw clenching angrily. “A collision in gym class. Embarrassing, really.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Looks gnarly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You should see Flynn’s elbow.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He smiles next, relief obviously flooding over. “Kinda makes you look badass,” he jokes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?” She laughs. “Think I should change the story?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mmhm. Say it was the meanest person in school.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Showed no mercy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.” Luke leans forward, pressing a soft kiss to her jaw. He peppers her cheek until his lips meet hers in a kiss that takes her breath away. “That’s my girl,” he whispers, grinning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And now here they are: Julie curled into his side, head on his chest, and Luke’s arm around her, fingers in her hair. He’s talking about the 90s—his own embarrassing moments from high school along with some of Alex and Reggie. She muffles her laughter into his chest before the rest of the house gets suspicious. Good thing he doesn’t have to quiet himself; he can laugh out loud, fill her room to the brim with the beautiful noise, and she doesn’t have to worry because it’s really, truly only there for her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” he breathes, calming down from the last story.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Julie pushes herself up to hover over him, meeting his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luke grins. “Kiss me again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She does. Over and over and over, as much as she likes because she can. Because it’s a day like this, and he’s all hers.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. just hair (willex)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>wordless ways to say "i love you"?: brushing their hair after a shower</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>first time truly writing willex! yay! if they seem ooc, i'm sorry! i haven't quite figured out willie yet! woohoo!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Willie isn’t sure about his hair. He’s been told it’s too long. His father says he’s just asking for it—it being, he assumes, whatever comes along with being basically out as gay in the 90s—his mother doesn’t mind, maybe just “a little shorter on the sides”. His friends have no opinion, fine with either; it’s usually hidden under his skate helmet anyways.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Perhaps the only opinion he really cares about comes from a pretty blond he’s still getting to know. Still learning about, yet he comes over every other day without Willie’s parents knowing. Still discovering sides of him, even though they spend most nights curled into each other under the protection of Willie’s bed spread.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alex sits on the bed behind him, knees next to Willie’s shoulders, stroking a brush through Willie’s hair. It’s relaxing for both of them, he thinks. Alex works in silence; he often works in silence. It’s comfortable. Willie leans against him, the fingers gently massaging across his scalp nearly lulling him to sleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you think I should cut my hair?” he asks quietly; any louder feels forbidden.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you </span>
  <em>
    <span>want</span>
  </em>
  <span> to cut your hair?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not what I asked.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alex hums. He brushes Willie’s bangs back with his fingers. “I don’t think so,” he answers. “I like your hair.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You do?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course I do.” Alex presses a kiss to the top of Willie’s head. Then he leans around Willie to look him in the eye. “Why do you ask?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Willie shrugs. “I just… I don’t know. You don’t think it looks… girly?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alex’s head jerks while his eyebrows furrow. “Who told you that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My dad.” Willie shrugs again. “Forget I said anything; it’s not a big deal.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alex is quiet again when he continues his task. Willie sighs deeply, instantly regretting the whole conversation. He focuses on the smooth strokes through his hair instead of whatever Alex might be thinking. Alex over thinks a lot; Willie hates that he probably just added to the list.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Willie,” Alex mumbles. He lays the brush next to Willie’s leg.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alex sits next to him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Baby,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> he whispers, and Willie nearly melts. “You should know that your hair is beautiful.” Alex runs his fingers down Willie’s hairline and across his jaw. “And so are you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Willie swallows thickly. He smiles as soft as his love for the boy next to him. Taking Alex’s hand in his own, Willie leans forward and kisses him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you,” he says before kissing him again. They don’t break apart this time; Alex’s arms wrap around him, and Willie knows he’s gone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t consider cutting his hair again.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. the night nickelodeon broke (julie & reggie)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>"I'm here." for reggie and julie :)</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Julie and Carlos are in the living room. It’s Tuesday, last slivers of sunlight already crushed by the LA smog and night sky. They’re on opposite ends of the couch, Carlos wrapped in a blanket with his eyes glued to the TV, and Julie playing a game on her phone, finishing a bowl of popcorn. Between them, is Reggie, pillow hugged to his chest, feet on the coffee table, eyes also glued to the TV. He shares a love of Spongebob with Carlos (even if Carlos doesn’t know it).</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Julie suddenly scoffs and drops her phone on the pillow. Reggie looks over, an eyebrow raised and a question on the tip of his tongue, but Carlos interrupts, “Did you lose in mini golf again?” He doesn’t even look away from the TV.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She glares at nothing in particular, rises to her feet, and grabs the empty bowl. “I don’t know how she’s so good at it!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> hard.” Carlos turns to smirk over the back of the couch while Julie walks into the kitchen. “I could give you some pointers.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Reggie twists to watch the exchange as well. As weird as it sounds, he likes listening to them banter. It reminds him of him and his brother back in high school.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Julie catches his eye as she laughs sarcastically. Her scowl </span>
  <em>
    <span>almost</span>
  </em>
  <span> curves into a smile when he grins at her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Behind him, the sixth straight episode of Spongebob Squarepants begins—</span>
  <em>
    <span>six!</span>
  </em>
  <span> Nickelodeon must be broken or something.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then a violent tremor cuts through the house. It begins as a soft vibration in his legs, and in seconds, his </span>
  <em>
    <span>teeth </span>
  </em>
  <span>are </span>
  <em>
    <span>shaking, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and he can hear the glassware in the cabinets clinking together nervously.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carlos is quick. Reggie turns to him, ready to shove him under a doorway or something, but he’s already off the couch and crawling beneath the coffee table. Curling into a ball, he covers his bowed head with his arms; this isn’t his first time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Glass shatters in the kitchen. First it’s one dish, and then it’s a dozen. Reggie moves to rise from the couch. His vision is fuzzy—eyes themselves won’t stop </span>
  <em>
    <span>vibrating,</span>
  </em>
  <span> which is a weird thought. He grabs the couch for support as he pushes himself to his feet, but the floor is moving too! This isn’t his first time either, but fuck, it’s been </span>
  <em>
    <span>years.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Lights flash angrily until they cut out completely. There are more crashes around the house: heavy thuds and high pitched shatters. “Julie!” Reggie calls.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here!” she shouts. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Here</span>
  </em>
  <span> sounds somewhere in front of him, but he can’t even see his hand in front of his face. “Uh, you’ll have to be a little more specific!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kitchen table!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s there right when everything stops. The earth settles to a soft halt, but Reggie’s still tense. Just ‘cause it’s been a while doesn’t mean he’s forgotten about </span>
  <em>
    <span>aftershocks.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Julie?” he whispers, dropping to his knees.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead of answering, a flashlight shines in his face. She lowers it when he squints and blocks his eyes. “Hey,” she breathes. “Sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where’d you get a flashlight?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s on my phone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of course it is; modern technology is something else.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Reggie crawls under the table next to her. “You okay?” he asks. “I heard something break.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. I mean, probably.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t like the uncertainty of probably.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They’re about to crawl out from beneath the table when an aftershock ripples through the house. Julie flinches after a book slips off its shelf in front of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hate these,” she says into his shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Reggie nods, hugging her close. “Me too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They wait for two minutes; Julie keeps track on her phone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Julie?” Carlos calls cautiously.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m here,” Julie replies. “You okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. You?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A pause. “Yeah.” Reggie sees the light flicker at him, but he doesn’t look over until she inhales sharply. “Oh.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Small shards of glass are stuck in her palm. Blood dribbles from the punctures and runs down her hand. It’s not life threatening, but Reggie knows that has to hurt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are there bandages somewhere?” he asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Julie nods, waving his phone in the direction. “Under the sink.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he returns with a first aid kit, Julie has already picked out the pieces of glass that she could see. They lay in a pile at her feet—far more than he originally thought. Reggie takes a seat next to her and pops open the box.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Julie shines the light over him as he searches for supplies. “You’ll need the cotton balls, and the—” she begins.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“—rubbing alcohol,” Reggie finishes. “I got this, Julie.” He flashes a smile at her while grabbing the supplies. She giggles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where are Alex and Luke?” Julie asks suddenly, as if the thought just occurred to her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Reggie shrugs. He reaches for her hand. “I don’t know really; they went out earlier.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you think they’re okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, they’re already ghosts—at least they can’t get into any serious trouble.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s what I thought before the Caleb Thing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Reggie huffs a laugh and rolls his eyes. “Yeah, okay. They’re fine, though. Well, Alex might be freaking out, but Luke’s with him, so—” He shrugs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She nods. “Earthquakes freak me out, too.” She flinches when the alcohol touches her injuries; Reggie tightens his grip around her wrist, anticipating her pulling away. “Been a while since one has knocked out the electric, though.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Last one I remember was the Northridge earthquake.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Was it bad?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The look he gives her must tell the whole story, because her eyebrows raise in surprise. “Oh.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was… terrifying.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>While Reggie wraps her hand in medical gauze, Julie says, “Last year, Puerto Rico was hit with a few bad earthquakes. I have family down there.” He glances up at her. “We had to keep up with what was happening on the news because we couldn’t contact them for weeks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Were they okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. Thankfully.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He smiles when she does, mutual relief in the air. As Reggie finishes wrapping her hand, he asks,  “Is that too tight?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She flexes her fingers. “No; feels good.” He can hear the smile in her voice. “Thank you.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The lights don’t come back on that night. Ray returns ten minutes later, on the phone with Julie’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>tía</span>
  </em>
  <span> Victoria about how </span>
  <em>
    <span>he didn’t care if the ground split open, he was getting home to his kids! Dios.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Julie volunteers to look for lanterns and candles in the studio. Reggie follows behind, since she has the flashlight. Luke and Alex are there, lounging on the couch from what he can see. Alex flinches when she shines the light in their faces, but Luke is on his feet in seconds, rushing across the room to meet them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, are you guys okay?” he asks, taking Julie’s injured hand in his own while looking them both over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We lived,” Julie answers, shrugging. Then she pauses, like her words are sinking in. “I mean—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Julie fell,” Reggie adds, snickering. She shoves him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She sighs. “I think my phone screen broke.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is your family okay?” Alex asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.” Reggie can hear the smile in her voice. “We’re all good. Once I find some candles and lanterns, we’ll be better.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I think there are some lanterns in the loft,” Alex says just before disappearing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We were at the pier when it happened,” Luke explains. “The waves were</span>
  <em>
    <span> crazy. </span>
  </em>
  <span>It wasn’t as bad as ‘94, though.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Reggie huffs. “Dude, nothing’s as bad as ‘94.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Think that’s the first thing Alex thought of when it happened,” Luke says quietly. Reggie can’t see him, but he knows the voice. He’s thankful Alex wasn’t alone on one of his ghost adventures tonight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A crash upstairs has them all flinching. Julie gasps; he hears her hand smack her chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alex?” Reggie calls.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You good, man?” Luke adds.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alex doesn’t answer that, but he does say after a moment, “You know what we should have as ghosts? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Night vision.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Julie laughs out loud. Luke chuckles. Reggie grins.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Molinas spend the rest of their night playing board games. While they’re seated around the coffee table, Reggie and the guys are on the couch; he’s trying to explain the concept of</span>
  <em>
    <span> Spongebob</span>
  </em>
  <span>; they aren’t getting it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That sounds like the dumbest show,” Alex decides.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a </span>
  <em>
    <span>gem</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Reggie defends.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, was it actually the earthquake that broke the bowl,” Carlos begins, reaching across the board for the pair of die, “or did you rage quit?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rage quit?” Luke whispers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mini golf,” Reggie supplies.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That doesn’t…” Alex says, shaking his head. “What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Julie rolls her eyes. “Ha ha. It was the </span>
  <em>
    <span>earthquake</span>
  </em>
  <span>, dummy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And how did you wrap your hand so well in the dark, on your own?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe one of my ghost friends helped me out.” She smirks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ray rolls his eyes. “Okay, that’s enough. I don’t want to hear any more teasing unless it’s smack talk about the game, got it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The guys laugh. “Best dad,” Reggie mutters.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>While Carlos heckles their dad to buy a property, Julie raises her hand to Reggie. They share a grin; he bumps her fist with his.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He never thought he’d say this, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>maybe</span>
  </em>
  <span> earthquakes aren’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>so</span>
  </em>
  <span> bad.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. exposed (juke)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>"Who's your friend?"</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Since Julie missed her last three periods for a dentist appointment, someone has to bring her homework over. That’s fine. She warns them before they start practicing that Flynn would probably come in halfway through or something. They don’t mind; Flynn is cool.</p><p>But apparently Flynn is busy today.</p><p>So it’s Nick who slips through the studio door with an arm full of books and a red folder and stops short just inside, awestruck of the performance before him. Alex must be the first after Julie to notice because the drums cut out abruptly, then Reggie falls flat seconds later. By now, Julie has pushed her microphone back on its stand and met Nick at the door. She’s trying to usher him back outside, saying something about band practice with the guys who <em>obviously</em> <em>live on the other side of the planet</em>, but he’s not listening. Nick’s eyes are trained on Luke, who has been playing the same three chords for the last minute just to stay visible.</p><p>Luke smirks. He ignores Alex trying to call him off as he crosses the room. “Hey Julie,” he says, sidling up next to her. He nudges her arm with his elbow, smiling down at her, before looking over to Nick. “Who’s your friend?”</p><p>“Nick,” he responds. “And… you are?”</p><p>“This is Luke,” Julie says before he can answer. “As you can tell—” She gestures to his guitar— “he’s stuck on this part in the song that he should <em> really </em> go practice over <em> there.” </em> She points at Reggie and Alex while shooting him a glare.</p><p>“Wait, <em> Luke?” </em> Nick repeats. He frowns, glancing between them. Something must click because he raises an eyebrow and presses his lips into a halfhearted smile. “Oh… <em> That’s </em>why you called me Luke that day in dance class.”</p><p>Luke turns to her with wide eyes. Behind her, Alex’s jaw drops. Reggie's eyebrows shoot up.</p><p>Julie refuses to look at him. “Ha ha…<em> Okay,” </em> she says, pushing Nick toward the door. “Thanks for dropping off my work and everything! Bye!”</p><p>Nick stops at the door—his eyes keep darting between Julie and Luke—and asks, “Can I talk to you for a second?”</p><p>Julie shakes her head while answering, “Sure! Okay, yeah, um. Out there, though.” As she follows him out, she raises her voice over her shoulder, “Where no one can <em> hear us.” </em> Just before pushing the door shut, she glares at them knowingly. Luke barely notices.</p><p>Alex hums, stepping around his drum set. “Wonder why she’d be thinking about you at <em> school.” </em></p><p>“Hey, she never said that was off limits.”</p><p>“Figures that the only reason <em> you </em> would go to school is because of a girl,” Reggie teases.</p><p>Julie returns a minute later. As she walks over, she makes a point to avoid Luke’s smug smile the best she can.</p><p>Reggie and Alex share a look. “Hey, Alex?” Reggie asks. He points toward the house. “D'ya wanna see what Carlos is up to?”</p><p>Alex nods. “Uh-huh.”</p><p>Julie sighs heavily when they poof away. She continues ignoring Luke, instead busying herself with her keyboard. Rolling his eyes, Luke moves in front of her. “So,” he says. She begins playing a song he didn’t recognize, still refusing to look at him.</p><p>Poking his tongue against his cheek, he lays one hand over hers while the other tips her chin up, forcing her to look at him. He smirks. “So, what happened in dance class?”</p><p>“We danced.”</p><p>“How’d my name come up?”</p><p>“I don’t know, Luke. Maybe it’s because you followed me to school that day?”</p><p>“Oh, so you were still thinking of me after I left?”</p><p>Julie rolls her eyes. “Thinking about how ridiculous you were yelling in the halls, yes.”</p><p>“You loved it.” He grins. “I know you were smiling, just like you’re trying not to do right now.”</p><p>“Stay away from my school,” she warns with no bite.</p><p>Luke hums. “Admit that you wished you were dancing with <em> me </em> that day.”</p><p>That does something. Julie abruptly backs away from the piano; he doesn’t know what that means, but she’s seconds away from breaking, he’s sure of it, so he steps around the keyboard to meet her.</p><p>“I think I’d be pretty good at it,” he continues when she doesn’t respond. “How hard can it be? It’s just…” He curls an arm around her waist, hand on the small of her back, pressing her close to him. His other hand takes hers, hovering near their shoulders. “How’d I do?”</p><p>Julie looks up at him, unimpressed. “Not bad. I guess.”</p><p>He doesn’t actually know how to ballroom, so he shuffles them around, swaying back and forth to the tune of a song in his head. “Are your memories coming back now?” he asked. “To the day you called Nickipoo the wrong name?”</p><p>“Yeah, actually.” She laughs. “I’m remembering he’s a better dancer than you.”</p><p>Luke scoffs. “Ouch, Molina.” He dips his head suddenly, kissing her softly on the lips. He releases her hand to cup her cheek while the other presses into the curve of her spine.</p><p>When he pulls away and she chases for more, he breathes a laugh. “You have to admit,” he whispers, brushing her hair behind her ear. “<em> I’m </em> the better kisser.”</p><p>Julie bites her lip. “I don’t know,” she says. “I think I need more proof for that one.” Fingers in his hair, she pulls him back for another and another and another until he’s sure she’s forgotten about the other guy.</p><p>And then, he kisses her some more.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. ~friendsgiving~ (gen)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The silence that immediately follows “How did you spend your holidays?” is brief but deafening, and makes her heart sink. She looks to Luke for help, but he’s watching the guys on the couch, eyes jumping between Alex and Reggie; the weight of the conversation seems to rest on their shoulders, and they don’t notice because they’re too busy avoiding everything, </span>
  <em>
    <span>especially </span>
  </em>
  <span>their bandmates.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So Julie backtracks, quickly. “I’m sorry,” she says, shaking her head. “I shouldn’t—Forget I said anything.” She reaches to fix the sheet music but realizes it’s already perfectly straight, and her hand falls flat, and there’s still an awkward silence, so she begins playing the start of Finally Free, which isn’t at all what they were working on, but this hasn’t happened before. She’s always been careful asking about their past because she doesn’t know how far was too far. And until now, she hasn’t struck out with any questions. They’ve been cool about it, mostly answering anything she wanted to know. If they didn’t want to talk about it, they kindly changed the subject. At some point, she thinks they became open books to her, and she them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s why this question tumbled out so casually. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And that’s why the silence is scaring her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luke, finally, saves her. “We’d spend Thanksgiving with my dad’s family,” he tells her with a smile, which she immediately mirrors as her shoulders slump with relief, “and for Christmas, we’d go to my aunt’s place to party with my mom’s side. She actually lives in Pasadena.” He chuckles. It takes her all of five seconds to realize why that’s funny to him, and then she breathes a laugh and rolls her eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Holidays were always hectic for me,” Reggie says next. Julie’s heart flutters. “Like, three or four days of traveling to make sure we see both sides, both sets of grandparents, and somehow not barf from all the food.” He and Luke share a laugh, and Alex smiles faintly as he jumps to his feet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just remembered,” he says, stepping over Luke, “I’m meeting Willie today.” He looks back at them briefly, his smile weak and probably forced, before vanishing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Reggie and Luke share a look. Mumbling something about the beach, Reggie disappears too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As soon as he’s gone, Julie’s face drops to her hands. “That was a disaster,” she groans.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Family’s just a hard topic for them,” Luke replies quietly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chewing on her lip, Julie takes Alex’s spot next to him. “Tell me why?” she asks softly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure, since they outed all of my shit last month.” He chuckles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whaaat?” Julie shakes her head. “They didn’t—” The look he gives her makes her stumble. Sheepishly, she adds, “They were trying to help.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know.” Shaking his head, he explains, “Reggie’s parents fought a lot. So much that he didn’t like us coming over, like, ever. It was, seriously, </span>
  <em>
    <span>all the time.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fighting, like… arguing? Or…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just arguing,” he reassures. “They’d scream at each other, and sometimes at him if he got in the middle of it, but…” Luke sighs. “Just arguing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And… Alex?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pauses, gaze dropping to his lap, and Julie’s stomach turns. She reaches for his hand, half to grab his attention again, half because she feels she’ll need a better alternative to digging her nails into her palm when she hears whatever he has to say. He intertwines their fingers, locking her hand in a grip tighter than she expected. If she wasn’t nervous before, she is now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alex’s parents weren’t cool with him being gay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Julie sits up straighter. “What—What does that mean?” She needs better clarification because she </span>
  <em>
    <span>knows</span>
  </em>
  <span> what that could mean—she’s seen it on the news, on Tumblr and Twitter and Instagram, heard about it through the grapevine of high school—and her heart aches at the idea of Alex—sweet, caring Alex—going through anything of the sort.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They didn’t kick him out which, I guess, is something, but they just… stopped caring. They stopped acknowledging him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Julie shakes her head. “They don’t deserve any praise for not kicking him out,” she says quietly, lip curling at her words. “Not for doing </span>
  <em>
    <span>less</span>
  </em>
  <span> than the bare minimum of being parents.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Getting angry over it is a lost cause.” He smiles sadly at her. “You don’t know how many times we talked about getting him out of his house. Both of ‘em. Bobby and I would spend nights out here, drawing up plans to run away to Vegas or something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I should’ve never brought it up,” she mumbles. “I know holidays are hard for some people.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, no, it’s okay.” He shakes his head, turning to her and taking her other hand in his. “It’s okay. You didn’t know. Besides, it was bound to come up eventually. Family’s just… different, you know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Julie sighs, shoulders slumping forward. She watches Luke’s thumb rub across her knuckles. Thanksgiving is in a few days; her house is going to be lively with the whole family. When Mom was alive, the studio was a place for the kids to hangout. Obviously, nobody went near it after she died. Dad locked it up before people began arriving. Julie wonders, as she looks around the room, if they’ll open it to the family again. Or maybe it should stay closed for the guys’ sake.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So… No holidays?” she asks. “At all? ‘Cause… I have an idea…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luke raises an eyebrow. “What’re you thinking?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s this thing called… Friendsgiving.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~**~**~**~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Star Wars</span>
  </em>
  <span> and other movies downloaded to the computer? Check. Computer hooked up to the projector? Check. Two white sheets borrowed from Flynn strung up in front of the instruments? Check.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are the lights too much?” Julie asks, waving her phone around the room to show off her decorations. “They feel too much.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, fairy lights are cute!” Flynn exclaims through the phone. “And you went through all the work hanging them up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know we think they’re cute, but will </span>
  <em>
    <span>they</span>
  </em>
  <span> think they’re cute?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jules, they’re like puppies; they’ll be excited about</span>
  <em>
    <span> anything.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.” Julie nods. “Okay.” The lights are weaved around the loft railing and framing the sides of the sheets. She had to improvise with Christmas lights, so when she turns them on, instead of faint white, a soft rainbow glows off the loft and cascades down to the floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look okay?” she asks Flynn again. She doesn’t know why she’s so nervous. It’s just Luke, Reggie, and Alex… But Reggie and Alex haven’t had a good Thanksgiving in a while. So, okay, maybe there’s a little pressure for things to be perfect. Or a lot. Maybe the lights is overdoing it—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dude, what’s up with you?” she hears Alex say outside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re here!” Julie stage whispers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay?” Flynn says just as soft. “Go talk to them? And the lights are cute! Keep them on!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As Julie would say,” Reggie adds, voice getting louder as he nears the studio, “you’re acting</span>
  <em>
    <span> hella sus.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, wait,” Luke says, probably trying to stop him. “Just—Wait a second.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll text you later,” Julie tells Flynn as she heads for the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Julie!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Flynn smiles at her. “They’re going to love it, okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Julie stops, hand inches from the door handle. Taking a deep breath, she returns Flynn’s smile. “Thanks, Flynn.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Feet shuffle out of the way of the door that swings open a few feet. Julie pokes her head out. “Hi there,” she says, grinning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alex squints at her. “You’re in on it too, huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alex, honey, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>planned</span>
  </em>
  <span> it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luke, who froze in the middle of holding Reggie back with arms around his chest when Julie stepped out, backs off and joins her by the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you guys never figured it out!” he says proudly, fist bumping her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Reggie and Alex share a look that makes her think yeah, no, they </span>
  <em>
    <span>totally</span>
  </em>
  <span> figured something was going on. She giggles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, uh…” Julie glances over her shoulder. “You guys want to see what the secret is?” She leans against the door to push it open and waves them past.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Along with the Christmas lights is a lamp beside the couch, covered by a blanket to dim the brightness. In place of the coffee table she pushed to the side are pillows and blankets layered over each other. Board games she found in the loft are stacked high in the chair next to the couch. They’re a mixture of generations: some she received as Christmas and birthday gifts, and others that have been around for as long as she can remember—favorites among her family, especially her parents. Maybe the guys will remember them too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The shelf behind the couch is empty except for the projector. She had to find an extension cord to plug in her computer and leave it safely on the couch (she may have tried to balance it on the shelf with the projector, but one close call was enough to look into alternatives).</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After the door is latched behind her, she joins them in the middle of the room, playing with her hands. “I’m sorry about yesterday,” she begins. “I didn’t mean to bring up any bad memories.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alex shakes his head. “It’s not your fault, Julie. You didn’t know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But I do now. And… I don’t know how you guys feel about the holidays, but I hope you give this one a chance?” She steps around them, kicking off her shoes as she goes. “It’s not an official holiday, but over the years, it’s become more popular.” She steps onto the couch and looks back at them with a smile. “It’s called Friendsgiving. Families suck sometimes, and you can’t choose them. But, you </span>
  <em>
    <span>can</span>
  </em>
  <span> choose your friends.” Standing on her tiptoes, she flips the projector on. A light beam shoots past them and shines across the bed sheets. Two was a better decision than one, it seems. The picture has plenty of room to spread out. Perhaps not the best quality, but at least they can watch it full screen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have all of the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Star Wars</span>
  </em>
  <span> movies downloaded,” she continues, stepping off the couch, “along with a few others if we get sick of the marathon. I don’t know if you like board games, but I found a few in the loft?” She points at the stack.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You did… all of this for us?” Reggie asks, almost breathlessly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, yeah. And Luke helped.” Luke smiles when the guys look at him. Julie adds, “I don’t think I could’ve guessed your movie taste without him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There are some good ones on there,” he promises.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alex huffs a laugh. He spins in a slow circle, taking in everything. “This is awesome, Jules.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She grins. “Really?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, but… You’re wrong about one thing.” She freezes. Luke and Reggie look back at him. Alex shoves his hands in his jacket pockets, looking over each of them, the corner of his mouth curved in a smile. “You can choose the family that matters.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And it’s us?” Luke teases. “We’re your Chosen Ones?” As he and Reggie share a laugh, Alex walks away from them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“C’mere,” he says with a laugh, pulling Julie into a hug. Alex gives some of the best hugs. He’s tall enough to tuck her head under his chin, and she can bury her face in his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luke and Reggie must move in, because Alex walks them near the couch. “No, no, </span>
  <em>
    <span>she’s</span>
  </em>
  <span> my Chosen One. You two go away.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We were here first,” Luke whines.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But it’s Julie,” Reggie reasons. He shakes his head, a fond smile on his lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luke nods. “Good point.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Still, you’re crazy if you think I’m just going to ignore group hug potential,” Reggie says, lunging for them. Alex pretends to try getting away, but he actually opens an arm for him, and now Julie’s squished between them. Not even a second later, Luke’s on her other side. They’re a mess of laughter until someone missteps. They fall in slow motion, it seems. Julie rolls off of Alex’s chest and into the arms of Luke, who hugs her to his chest immediately.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good thing Julie has all of the pillows of the universe here,” Alex jokes.</span>
</p><p><span>“Oh yeah, I called in every favor. They asked how many I wanted. I said yes.”</span><span><br/>
</span> <span>Reggie pushes himself up. He squints at the stack of board games. “No way! You have Candyland?”</span></p><p>
  <span>Luke chuckles in her ear. “Are those Christmas lights?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I improvised.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I like it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alex is looking at them. “Me too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Julie grins. “Thanks, guys.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Reg, Candyland or Star Wars?” Alex asks, rolling onto his stomach.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Reggie pauses, board game in his hands. “Can we… We can do </span>
  <em>
    <span>both!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Julie laughs out loud. A second later, they join her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a few minutes of clearing away the pillows ( “Oh good, I thought we’d never see that rug again.”), setting up the game, and playing the movie, they were ready: Candyland and Star Wars. Not how she ever imagined spending the day before Thanksgiving.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” Julie says as she draws a card. It’s red. She looks up at them, smiling. “I love you guys, you know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They each share looks, grinning at one another. To her left, Luke draws next. “We know, Julie,” he says, moving his character forward. When he meets her eye, he tell her, “We love you, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now, keep that in mind when I completely destroy all of you in these games,” Reggie warns.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Julie raises a challenging eyebrow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bring it.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. don't forget (julie & reggie)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>ways to say 'i love you': drawing their name in the sand</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Julie and Carrie used to go to that noodle shop by the beach all the time. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oishi Ramen</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Her dad loved it there; it was Trevor Wilson approved, which automatically meant it was the Best Noodle Shop in Town.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She hasn’t eaten there in a year, at least.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I knew the people who used to live there,” he tells her one evening. “The Meyersons. A friendly couple who never had kids. They had a dog, though. Rocky. I </span>
  <em>
    <span>loved</span>
  </em>
  <span> that dog.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Julie giggles, digging her stick into the sand. She carefully draws a heart next to her J.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They were outside a lot,” he continues, carving an R into the sand. “And every time our paths crossed, we caught up. They spoke to me every chance they could. We’d have parties down on the beach, and Mr. Meyerson would come down to check on us every now and then.” Reggie pauses, and when she looks over, he’s staring at the building thoughtfully. “They were good people.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shaking his head, he returns to his name half traced into the sand at his feet. Julie watches him for another minute before returning to her own work. The sun sets behind them, casting their warm shadows across the pavement. Absently, she retraces the end of her stick through her name.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s weird,” Reggie says suddenly, looking up again. “My parents fought a lot. I didn’t spend a lot of time at home those last few months. Until Alex came out to his parents, I stayed with him or Luke. And then I stayed with Luke. And then Luke went to live at the studio, and we spent most of our time there. I shouldn’t be as attached to this place as I am.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Julie looks at him in surprise. “You shouldn’t be attached to the place your home once was? Your </span>
  <em>
    <span>childhood home,</span>
  </em>
  <span> are you serious?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There weren’t good memories here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, they were all bad?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He avoids her gaze, grumbling, “Well, </span>
  <em>
    <span>no</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Only the recent ones. It just… feels pointless to mourn something that isn’t there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She twists around, scanning the emptying beach behind them. The sun is beginning to dip beneath the horizon, leaving a trail of vibrant oranges and pinks in its wake.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soft waves crash into the shore below, the foam crawling up the sand and chasing after a squealing toddler who waddles into the arms of her father. They’re both laughing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about the beach?” she asks, nudging him. He turns as well, but just to make sure he sees what she does, Julie adds, “What about the parties you guys had out here? The late nights, the early mornings? The illegal stuff I just </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> you did?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We—No. No, we were perfectly well-behaved teenagers.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A beat passes before they both laugh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m pretty sure they can’t destroy a whole beach,” she reassures. “Sounds illegal or something. So even if everything else changes, you guys still have this place.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That spark is back in his eyes. Julie smiles, jumping to her feet. Grabbing her drawing stick, she offers her hand. “Come on,” she says. “Tell me everything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They stay out until only slivers of sunlight streak the sky. While she works on a bigger project, he tells her all about their adventures on the beach: late night talks about their futures, performing at the pier for a few extra dollars, showing off their mediocre surfing skills for some girls from school (but </span>
  <em>
    <span>apparently,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Reggie was a little better than</span>
  <em>
    <span> mediocre). </span>
  </em>
  <span>He never notices what she’s doing, too caught up in his own memories. Reggie only snaps out long enough for her to redirect him away from the words he’s about to walk over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her dad texts her at the same time as Luke and Alex appearing beside them. Julie’s just finishing the final word when Alex asks, “What’re you guys doing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Reggie’s been telling me all of the beach stories,” she says, not looking up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What, our stories?” Luke says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The stories where we… were totally responsible and followed all of the rules like the well-behaved kids we were?” Alex adds. He grins at her when she turns.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, yeah.” Julie chuckles. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“All</span>
  </em>
  <span> of that.” His frown slips when he looks past her. While he and the others step forward to view her work, she zips her jacket up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luke looks between the words at his feet and the place where Reggie’s house used to be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can we go home?” Julie asks innocently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alex leans an arm on Reggie’s shoulder while Reggie looks back at her. He smiles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” he says, taking her hand and squeezing it. “Let’s go home.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Julie glances at her words one last time before Reggie pulls her away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She leaves a message for the world behind: REGGIE PETERS WAS HERE</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Except the ‘was’ has a line marked through it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>REGGIE PETERS IS HERE</span>
</p><p>
  <span>1995</span>
</p><p>
  <span>2020</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>i may or may not have been thinking of that book 'mick harte was here' while writing this oops</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>20. hollywood heights (juke)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>prompt: "you almost died! and for what?"</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>tw: heights</p><p>(and wasn't hollywood heights a show?? does anyone remember that or did i just have a fever dream lolol)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>You’d think, high up on that ledge, no safety harness or rope tethering her to safety, that the wind would be hazardous. That the strong gusts whipping through her hair, nipping at her cheeks, would only push her closer to the edge. Hell, she’s giving it plenty of opportunities, one foot hovering over open air and a fifty foot drop. It rushes her ears, swallowing the nervous, eager chatter from behind.</p><p>Maybe the wind knows she wouldn’t do it. That she’s only this close because she’s awestruck, frozen to the core by terrifying curiosity. Even at night, with a dark landscape before her, she can look out at the buildings in the distance, roofs lit with orange bulbs, and realize she’s standing about even with them. It’s chilling how they can be so high up, so close to danger and potential destruction, and be completely fine.</p><p>She faintly hears Nick call out to her, drawing her to the ladder as their friends head for the ground. Their shoes clicking against the metal rungs disappear in the air. She peers over the edge again, chills racing across her arms as a black hole stares back.</p><p>Funny how the wind is sweeping past as she’s suddenly jerked away from the edge, because <em> her </em> air leaves in a sharp gasp. She falls into something solid, and her hands ball into fists around something soft, and for a long moment, everything is still. For a long moment, she’s expecting to hit the ground.</p><p>Strong arms circle her, caging her in, holding her close. A hand rakes through her hair, gentle and trembling. “Oh my god, Jules,” he breathes in her ear.</p><p>When she pushes against his chest to look up at him, he doesn’t let her go far, hands catching her elbows in a firm grip.</p><p>“What’re you—?” she begins, raising her voice over the wind.</p><p>“Me?” Luke all but snaps, narrowing his eyes. “What’re <em> you </em> doing? This is dangerous, Julie!”</p><p>“Julie!” Flynn shouts. She’s at the top of the ladder, waving her over. “Come on! Everyone’s waiting.”</p><p>“Coming!” Julie calls, nodding at her. To Luke, she says, “We can talk about this at home.”</p><p>“Damn right.”</p><p>Taking her hand, he leads her across the platform. They stay close to the billboard, moving quickly and carefully. The billboard trembles in the wind; Julie freezes in her tracks, pressing as close to the wall as she can manage. Suddenly, the platform they’re standing on is too narrow. She can’t see the ground, and she doesn’t know if that’s a blessing or a curse.</p><p>Luke looks back at her. “Hey,” he says, squeezing her hand. “You’re okay, Jules. You’re not gonna fall, I promise.” Taking her other hand, he inches toward the ladder, tugging her along gently. Oh, to be a fearless ghost, walking <em> backward </em> on a small platform fifty feet in the air. She’d laugh if she wasn’t actually jealous of his bravery.</p><p>He waits until she’s safely on the ground and sticks around longer than needed, probably to make sure they’re heading home after. While Julie’s friends pile into Nick’s mom’s minivan, she throws an apologetic look, complete with her best puppy dog eyes, at Luke. His face is unreadable.</p><p>Alex and Reggie aren’t around, conveniently. She wonders if Luke ran them off during her trip home. </p><p>As soon as she’s pushed the studio door shut, Luke starts, “What the hell, Julie?”</p><p>“What?” she fires back. “We were just hanging out.”</p><p>“You almost <em> died!” </em> he stresses, voice heavy and strained. She frowns, but he continues, not even acknowledging it, “And for <em> what?”  </em></p><p>She blinks. “I don’t know, Luke. The memories? The <em> rush </em> of being a teenager? I didn’t almost <em> die. </em> I was fine—we were all <em> fine.” </em></p><p><em> “Yes, </em> you did.” Luke scowls, running a hand through his hair. “One misstep, and you could’ve!”</p><p>“Why are you—I thought you <em> lived </em> for thrills like that! You’re like one constant adrenaline rush!”</p><p>“I used to,” he tells her evenly, glaring over the coffee table. “You’re right, I used to <em> love </em> stuff like that. But then Death caught me off guard with a goddamn hot dog, and if it was so easy for me, then I don’t want to even <em> imagine </em> how quickly he could get you.”</p><p>His statement lingers in heavy silence. The only thing sharp enough to cut through is the look he’s giving her, and her stomach sinks when she realizes his eyes are glossy with fresh tears.</p><p>“Luke,” she whispers, swallowing thickly. Rocking on her heels, unsure of what to say next, she pulls him onto the couch. “Luke.”</p><p>“God,” he replies softly, shaking his head at her. “I would do everything in my power to make sure you don’t go through what we did.”</p><p>Chewing on her lip, focusing on his rings instead of his teary eyes—because now she’s on the verge, too—she nods. “I know.”</p><p>His touch is soft beneath her chin, forcing their eyes to meet. He gives her a small smile. “You know I don’t mean to be a buzzkill. Seriously, I <em>want</em> you to experience the thrills of life, but please…” Luke shakes his head. “Please don’t scare me like that.”</p><p>A lone tear rolls down his cheek. After she immediately wipes it away, her hand lingers, cupping his face.</p><p>“And,” he adds with a chuckle, “don’t tell Alex and Reggie I was in here crying. They’ll <em>never</em> let me live it down.”</p><p>Julie laughs then sniffs. “Only if you promise not to tell them I was, either.”</p><p>Luke smiles, fingers curling around her wrist. “Your secret is safe with me.” He peppers kisses across her palm and the inside of her wrist, then finishes with a quick peck to her lips.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” she says, breathless. “Thank you for being there. For saving me.”</p><p>Shaking his head, he pulls her into another kiss. “I love you,” he mumbles against her lips like it’s obvious; like it’s his reasoning for everything. Her heart flutters with the realization that maybe it is.</p><p>“I love you, too.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>look tbh i know it *is* dangerous, but i've kinda always wanted to get on a billboard, too. think that would be fun in a scary kind of way.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>21. beach cutie (alex & reggie)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>They’re having a beach day: them, the Molinas, and Flynn as a plus one. Ray and Carlos are in the water, Julie and Flynn laying out on the beach, and Luke under the umbrella behind the girls, taking advantage of the privacy of only having people in on the secret around to speak freely to Julie.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alex and Reggie are halfway down the beach. Reggie wanted to take a walk in the water—at least he can still feel the cool ocean water splash against his legs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ahead on the right, a shirtless guy with shiny brown hair headed for them, carelessly walking through Lifers like he didn’t notice them at all. Ghosts exist outside of the band and Willie, of course. Still, Reggie has yet to reach the point where watching someone </span>
  <em>
    <span>else</span>
  </em>
  <span> walk through people isn’t weird.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The guy’s swim trunks are hanging a little low on his hips—Reggie averts his eyes, a blush rising to his cheeks. He clears his throat, shaking his head. If his heart still worked, it’d be beating out of his chest right now.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Damn. He’s cute, isn’t he?</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t think he says it out loud, but then Alex laughs next to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have eyes for someone else,” he says. “But you go for it, Reggie.” He spoke so casually, as if his straight best friend didn’t just admit he thinks a guy is cute.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Reggie stops abruptly, and Alex turns to him a few steps ahead. His smile’s still there, a quiet chuckle escaping through his lips, but Reggie knows he’s not making fun of him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Reg,” he calls softly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I—You—?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dude, what am </span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> going to say?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Reggie holds his gaze fiercely, trying to straighten the jumbled words in his head. He’s thought guys were attractive before. Tons of times. But thinking it and actually saying it out loud were painfully different, the line being how badly he wishes he could slip away and forget it ever happened.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Reg,” Alex says again. The humor’s gone, replaced with a firm, caring stare. “It’s okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alex steps closer, eyes never leaving Reggie’s. “It’s okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Reggie nods, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jacket. “I know.” He nods again. “I know.” He shifts under Alex’s unwavering stare. Nodding toward the pier, he continues forward. “C’mon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They fall into a quiet pace. Alex leaves Reggie to his inner thoughts, which are still a jumbled mess. It has yet to click that he can look at another hottie on the beach and admit that he thinks they’re cute, and nothing bad will happen. He won’t be ridiculed, made fun of… nothing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” Reggie mumbles because he feels like he has to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dude, you don’t need to apologize.” Alex glances at him, a soft smile still on his face. “I totally get it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Right, of course he does. Better than any one of their friends, probably. Reggie’s shoulders sink with relief.</span>
</p><p><span>“So,” Alex begins after another moment of silence, “was it just that guy, or were there others?”</span><span><br/></span> <span>Reggie snickers. “Oh, dude. </span><em><span>Others.”</span></em></p><p>
  <span>Alex laughs. “Yeah?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.” Reggie shoves his hands in his pockets, glancing over his shoulder at where they left Julie and Luke. “Don’t repeat this, okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Promise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“… I kinda always thought Luke was pretty hot.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alex’s smile widens into a broad grin. Teeth catching his bottom lip, eyes shining under the sun, he admits, “Join the club, dude.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Seriously!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah!” Alex chuckles. “I mean, don’t get me wrong—I’ve moved on from him. Obviously. But still, I can admit he’s a good looking guy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Guess that’s why we put him in the front,” Reggie jokes. “All the good looks went to him.”</span>
</p><p><span>Alex makes a noise of protest. “No way, dude. You and Bobby looked pretty awesome up there, too.”</span><span><br/></span> <span>Reggie is about to add that </span><em><span>Alex</span></em><span> was probably the coolest as their drummer—because he always has a bad habit of leaving himself out—but Alex stops and turns to him.</span></p><p>
  <span>“Wait,” he says, catching Reggie’s arm. He’s suddenly looking serious, and Reggie isn’t a fan. “Do you… </span>
  <em>
    <span>like</span>
  </em>
  <span> Luke?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He opens and closes his mouth, contemplating. Reggie looks down the beach. They’re too far to see Luke, but Julie and Flynn are still laying out in front of the umbrellas, so Reggie knows he’s around too. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe</span>
  </em>
  <span> there’s a small underlying crush that’s been around for a few years, but… but maybe it’s also time to finally put it to rest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not as much as I used to,” he admits finally. Shaking his head away from their friends, he looks up at Alex. “Luke and Julie are good together, though. I don’t want to mess that up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alex looks like he wants to say something, but Reggie cuts him off. “Besides,” he adds, walking again, “doesn’t seem like it’s too hard to find cute ghost boys in this city. I’ll move on quick.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alex snickers, falling into step beside him. “Yeah, and if you’re not careful, they’ll run you over.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, but you guys </span>
  <em>
    <span>fell</span>
  </em>
  <span> for each other.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ha ha.” Alex chews his lip. His cheeks flush red.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Reggie grins at him, and when Alex looks over, he’s grinning too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They continue their journey to the pier, talking, laughing, pointing out people they think are cute. Reggie glances at Alex as they walk. He wonders if this is how Alex felt when he first came out: relieved, comfortable with finally being able to admit the kind of people he actually likes. Safe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alex catches him staring and grins, nudging him. “Dude,” he says, leaning in close. “That guy over there has been checking you out for five minutes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then, as if Alex made a deal with the freaking <em>universe,</em> Willie appears next to him. Alex turns to him with a warm smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” he says, reaching for his hand. “Perfect timing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Reggie narrows his eyes. “I don’t know how, but you did this on </span>
  <em>
    <span>purpose.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Alex ignores the confusion on Willie’s face to smirk at Reggie. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, dude.” His eyes dart over Reggie’s shoulder. “But <em>we</em> have to </span>
  <span>go.</span>
  <span> Good luck, Reg!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before he can protest, Alex and Willie disappear. Reggie glares at the spot they once stood. Tugging at his necklace, he turns slowly, glancing around for whoever Alex saw. Leaning against the rail, looking out to the ocean, is the guy Reggie saw on the beach.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turns just as Reggie spots him, and their eyes lock. He winks, smiling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Reggie’s heart flutters.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chewing on his lip, rocking on his heels, he takes a deep breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then, he makes his way over.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>22. not 'til eternity (juke)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>"I hope we last."</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Alex and Reggie will never believe this, and that’s exactly why Luke doesn’t plan to tell them. Alex, especially, will lecture him. “Blah blah </span>
  <em>
    <span>boundaries</span>
  </em>
  <span> blah blah </span>
  <em>
    <span>she told us to stay out of her room.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>And yeah, no, Luke gets it. Completely. The last thing he wants is to invade her privacy or anything. Any other time, he would’ve ignored it and checked on her later.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But there’s this sinking feeling in his stomach (which is already weird considering he doesn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>have</span>
  </em>
  <span> a stomach) that hasn’t gone away in an hour. He can’t explain what it is or how he knows, but there’s just something </span>
  <em>
    <span>wrong.</span>
  </em>
  <span> And he’s 85% sure it’s Julie.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She stirs when he turns on a lamp beside her bed. Whatever she’s dreaming about is fierce—her face is twisted in discomfort, and she’s clutching a pillow to her chest in a tight embrace.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rocking on his heels, thinking through his options, Luke reaches for her shoulder. “Hey, Julie?” he whispers, shaking her arm. “Jules. Hey, wake up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her eyes flutter. She squints at him, mumbling, “Luke?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kneeling in front of her, elbow resting on the edge of her bed, he asks gently, “Hey, you okay? You looked like you were having a nightmare.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead of answering, Julie hides her face behind her pillow. Maybe she isn’t completely awake, but… but she </span>
  <em>
    <span>seems</span>
  </em>
  <span> fine. So, that means everything’s okay, right? He can make it back before the guys get suspicious?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was about the Orpheum night,” she mumbles so quietly that he almost doesn’t hear her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luke frowns. “What about it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She sighs, eyes falling closed again. “You guys almost left me too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sinking feeling returns tenfold. For a moment, he doesn’t know what to do. Julie rolls over, already falling back asleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Poking his tongue into his cheek, Luke rises to his feet. He rounds the bed, kicks his shoes off, and crawls across the blanket before he can talk himself out of it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know,” he begins quietly, grabbing a pillow she’s not using to put behind his back, “you </span>
  <em>
    <span>should</span>
  </em>
  <span> be dreaming about our performance that night. All of those people cheering us on… Flynn, your family…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Julie peeks at him over the blanket. He can hear the smile in her sleepy voice, “I feel like my mom was even there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a soft smile on Luke’s face as he brushes her hair back. “She was,” he agrees. “Definitely.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Julie moves closer. She moves one of her pillows against Luke’s side and lays against it. He chuckles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you know,” he continues, fingers combing through her hair, “that was just the beginning. We already have our next gig coming up, right? Pretty soon, it’ll be a regular thing. Hell, we’ll even go on </span>
  <em>
    <span>tour</span>
  </em>
  <span> eventually. You’ll love it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Julie doesn’t respond, and in the silence, he remembers that summer in ‘95. Their first ever tour. Long drives, late nights, and a different city every weekend. It was <em>awesome.</em></span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hope we last,” she finally says quietly, kinda like she doesn’t want him to catch it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even though he feels that sinking feeling creeping back in, Luke doesn’t miss a beat, “We will.” His eyes, </span>
  <em>
    <span>so</span>
  </em>
  <span> full of fondness and unrealized love, fall to her. “We’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>never</span>
  </em>
  <span> leaving your side, Julie. Okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not ‘til </span>
  <em>
    <span>eternity,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>he promises.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>23. fall safe (willex)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Skateboarding is fun until it’s not—until Alex is suddenly on the ground, back against a wall, completely frozen in fear of the pain he’s yet to feel. His fall wasn’t graceful. What if he moves to get up and, like, breaks his wrist or something? Or realizes he has a concussion? Right now, pressed against the wall with his body entirely still, he’s safe. He’s okay… as long as he doesn’t move.</p><p>Willie shouldn’t be smiling, in Alex’s opinion, but it’s a soft grin accompanied by worried eyes, and Alex immediately feels warmer, having to bite his lip to keep away his own smile while Willie approaches. His boyfriend kneels next to him, leaning on one hand.</p><p>“You okay?” Willie asks. He glances over Alex quickly before meeting his eyes. Cupping Alex’s face, thumb stroking his cheekbone, Willie teases, “That was a gnarly fall, babe.”</p><p>“I know.” Alex sighs, leaning into the touch. “I’m scared to move.”</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>“I don’t feel hurt… and I don’t think that’s right.”</p><p>Willie breathes a laugh, shaking his head fondly. “Well, I hope that’s right. But you have to get up one way or another.” He’s apologetic, fingers brushing through Alex’s hair soothingly.</p><p>“Do I?” Alex argues, half joking. “I mean, the view is great. There’s a food truck over there.” He nods, looking over Willie’s shoulder. “And you come here a lot so, I mean, what else do I need?”</p><p>Willie laughs. “Okay, all good points, but hear me out.” A teasing smirk eats away the comforting smile. “I can’t kiss you as much as I want to out here.”</p><p>Alex raises an eyebrow. “Oh?”</p><p>“Mmhm. So, come on. Get up, we can grab some food, and…” Willie tips Alex’s chin up, leans forward, and kisses him softly. He rests his forehead against Alex’s and whispers, “I can show you what I mean back at my place.”</p><p>Willie’s good at words, have I mentioned? <em> Very </em> good, Alex thinks. He always knows exactly what to say… and how to make his heart race.</p><p>Alex moves to push himself up when pain explodes in his hand and jolts up his arm. He hisses, immediately falling against the wall again and cradling his arm against his chest. A static residue leaves everything, from his fingertips to his elbow, tingly.</p><p>“Ow, ow,” he whines, shaking his head.</p><p>“Okay, it’s okay,” Willie says, taking Alex’s other hand between his own. “You tried to catch yourself, didn’t you?”</p><p>Alex doesn’t answer, suddenly sheepish. Willie told him once, way back when he was first getting on the board, to fall safely. Alex thought that was kind of an oxymoron. How do you fall <em> safely? </em> But Willie made it make sense: <em> don’t try to catch yourself; fall with your hands in front of you, if you can; wrists break easier than you think they will. </em></p><p>“It’s okay,” Willie tells him again, that teasing smile back on his face. One of his friends calls his name as he approaches, ice pack in his hand. Willie takes it with a quick thanks before turning back to Alex. He takes Alex’s injured hand in a soft hold, featherlike touches against Alex’s palm while he carefully lays the ice pack over his wrist. “I once saw this guy wipeout on the halfpipe. He tried catching himself, too. And he’s been doing this for a while.” Willie gives him a knowing look. “He completely shattered his wrist.”</p><p>Alex grimaces. “That sucks.”</p><p>“Oh, yeah. It was bad.” Willie watches him. “That isn’t you, though.”</p><p>Nodding slowly, Alex admits, “Think I’m going to leave the skateboarding to you. </p><p>“Aw, but you were doing <em> so good."</em></p><p>Alex shoots him a flat look, which makes Willie laugh. “Okay, fine. No more skateboarding.”</p><p>“I’ll still be around to cheer you on, though.” Alex frowns, thinking. “If that’s how skate parks work…”</p><p>Willie laughs again, the noise making Alex grin. Shaking his head, Willie kisses him again. “It’s not,” he teases between breaths. “But you’re an exception, baby.”</p><p>Alex melts into him, the pain in his wrist long forgotten.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0023"><h2>24. friday night vibes (willex)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>prompt: "can you come pick me up?" &amp; "i need you. please."</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Willie neither opposes nor enjoys parties, but if it’s up to him, he’ll opt for a more inclusive night with </span>
  <em>
    <span>his</span>
  </em>
  <span> friends versus a time at a house he’ll never go to again, clumped together with friends </span>
  <em>
    <span>of friends of friends. </span>
  </em>
  <span>It’s been a while since he was here though, squished between Nalia and Jimmy, making mental bets on how long it’ll take these people to finally stumble over the sobriety line. He’s been here an hour—it won’t be long now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s Friday night. Last Friday, he was on a different couch, submersed in fresh air and the new music his boyfriend’s band is working on. Actually, for the last few Fridays, he’s been on that other couch, hanging out with a different set of friends of a friend. Things run at a different speed over there. They don’t smoke, don’t drink. They never have to tiptoe around the house when blue lights flash through the windows, worried about getting arrested. It’s… kind of nice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Willie missed his friends. That’s what he told Alex the last time they talked. Willie missed his friends, Alex was becoming more committed to their band</span>
  <em>
    <span> that was actually starting to take off,</span>
  </em>
  <span> and then this became a whole thing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here,” Jimmy says, shoving a bottle into his hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Willie shakes his head, passing it to Nalia. “Not interested.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You finally hang out with us, and you’re just going to stay </span>
  <em>
    <span>sober</span>
  </em>
  <span> this whole night?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just here to be here, dude.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s been three days. Alex says they’ve been busy preparing for a gig on Saturday. Willie pretends that doesn’t bug him by telling him he already had plans with his friends, anyway. They’re barely interacting more than a few short texts after school.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There isn’t any music here. Or if there is, he can’t hear it over the voices. Willie pauses, listening hard. Indie shit, probably. Whatever it is, it’s not as entertaining as </span>
  <em>
    <span>Julie and the Phantoms.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The bottle makes its way around again. He catches Jimmy give him an unimpressed look, one half shaved eyebrow raised, lips pressed together knowingly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How’re things going with you and Alex?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Willie scowls. He grabs the bottle.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>hey</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Delivered 9:30 PM</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>we’re still together right</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Delivered 9:30 PM</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>i hope so</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Delivered 9:30 PM</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This house has a balcony. But, like, inside. </span>
  <em>
    <span>An indoor balcony.</span>
  </em>
  <span> So cool.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, I wouldn’t get too close there,” someone says, catching him around the waist. They laugh, lips right next to his ear. The hot breath against his skin is as chilling as ice piercing his heart. Willie blinks, straightening in this guy’s hold. If the stranger notices, he doesn’t comment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry,” Willie says, turning out of his hold. “Not gone enough to try flying. Just admiring an indoor balcony.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The stranger chuckles. He’s cute when he smiles, wrinkles by his eyes, perfect white teeth, black hair flopping against his forehead with the bouncing of his shoulders. “It’s pretty cool, huh? Especially with that window.” He points at the giant window overlooking the neighborhood. They’re on the rich side of town, where houses have two floors, hillside views of the city, and indoor balconies.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Willie side eyes him. “This your house?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What gave it away?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shrugs. “Your vibe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My </span>
  <em>
    <span>vibe?”</span>
  </em>
  <span> The guy laughs again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Willie shrugs, throwing a halfhearted smile over his shoulder as he turns for the stairs. “See you around, rich guy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, wait—” He catches Willie’s wrist, pulling him back. “I didn’t even catch your name.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chewing his cheek, Willie looks him over. “Willie.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cool. I’m Miles.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cool. I have a boyfriend.” Willie pulls his wrist free. “Just saying.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t see him here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Doesn’t change the fact that I’m not single.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Miles hums, licking his lip. “Well. I’m not opposed to one night. What about you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Willie raises an eyebrow. This guy isn’t tall. He’s a few inches taller than Willie, but still. Willie wants</span>
  <em>
    <span> tall.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He wants blond, too. And blue eyes. Seems like only those key features will make his heart race these days (among other things).</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry,” Willie says, shaking his head. “Not interested.” He leaves quick but casual. He’s never wanted to act sober more than in that moment, when he can feel Miles’ eyes following him down the stairs.</span>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>can you come pick me up?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Delivered 10:00 PM</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>i need you. please.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Delivered 10:05 PM</b>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <b>Read 10:06 PM</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Where are you?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Delivered 10:06 PM</b>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Willie’s vision is blurred, and he feels like he’s floating, but still, he can tell from across the yard that Alex is uncomfortable and nervous. If he was more alert, he’d feel </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> bad. But at the moment, he’s just happy he came. Three days of minimal conversation, and Alex actually left his friends to come to his rescue. Cute.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” Willie says as he approaches, grinning at Alex.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” Alex replies distractedly, gaze dragging over him. “Are you okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.” Willie swings their hands back and forth. “Some guy was hitting on me, and I remembered how much I missed you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alex frowns, opening and closing his mouth, eyebrows furrowed. “Uh…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks for showing up.” Willie rocks on his heels. “I, uh. I didn’t know if you would for sure.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At that, Alex’s face softens. His fingers catch Willie’s chin, and he forces Willie to look up at him. “Of course I would. We </span>
  <em>
    <span>are</span>
  </em>
  <span> still together, you know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Willie snickers. “Good. Had me worried for a second.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chewing his lip, Alex nods toward his car. “C’mon. Let’s get going.” He opens the door for Willie, what a gentleman.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As they’re pulling away from the curb, Willie catches Jimmy and Nalia watching from the porch. Nalia waves them off. Jimmy turns on his heel and disappears into the house without a second glance. Willie sighs, sinking into his seat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are we okay?” he asks after a moment of silence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Alex glance at him. “Yeah?” Alex says. “I think so?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We just… haven’t really talked much.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know I’ve been busy with the band, and, well… you could’ve come tonight.” Alex looks between him and the road. “You know you’re always welcome.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah… I know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alex pokes his tongue into his cheek, flipping on the turning signal. “I guess I forgot you had friends before me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that a problem?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. Of course it’s not.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It… kinda sounds like that’s a problem.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They stop at a stop sign. Alex sighs. “I just…” He turns to him, playing with his fingers, and admits quietly, “I don’t want to be that person who controls their boyfriend—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You could never be that person,” Willie reassures.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“—but I miss you too. And I’m sorry the band has been taking up so much of my time—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You guys have a big show tomorrow.” Willie shrugs. “I get it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alex opens and closes his mouth, swallowing back whatever he was going to say. Willie reaches forward, fingers tracing the curve of his face and raking through his hair. He wishes he knew what Alex is thinking right now—there’s always something going on in his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you busy Sunday?” Alex finally asks, meeting his eye.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Willie smiles. “I am now. What do you have in mind?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alex shakes his head, his grin mirroring Willie’s. “Nothing special. I just want to be with you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Willie hums. “A whole day with you to myself?” He presses a soft kiss to Alex’s lips. “Sounds pretty special to me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As they continue down the road, Alex asks, “You’re coming tomorrow night, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Willie lifts Alex’s hand to his mouth, peppering kisses across his knuckles. “I wouldn’t miss it for the </span>
  <em>
    <span>world,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> he promises.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was once a thing Willie refers to now as Pre-Alex Friday Nights. They were fun then, but now, he lives for the Alex Friday Nights. Music he actually likes, company he can actually enjoy—and comfortable enough to <em>choose</em> to stay sober!—and a space he actually feels safe enough in to visit again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s his boyfriend Alex Mercer, he supposes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Constantly making his life better.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0024"><h2>25. friends in low places (julie, outsider pov)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>just something that i might expand on later. who knows *shrugs*</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Do you see what’s happening right now?” He gestures wildly. “In <em>your</em> garage?”</p><p>As if to prove his point, a pillow rolls off the couch. He points; Julie doesn’t look.</p><p>“I’ve been wondering about you for weeks, Molina.” Moving forward, he towers over her like that blond in her band—the drummer; <em>Alex</em>—challenging her infuriatingly unwavering presence. Where does it come from—this confidence? Sprouted out of nowhere, shook the school like an earthquake. He <em>has</em> been wondering for weeks, doing his research, watching and rewatching concert footage. Nearly a month of his investigation, and he’s still not any closer to discovering the truth behind <em>Julie and the Phantoms.</em></p><p>It’s <em>killing</em> him.</p><p>Julie shifts away from him. A cold chill brushes across the back of his neck, like an invisible force is actually the one making sure he doesn’t get too close. Maybe that’s it, then? Maybe there’s… someone here. Someone <em>else.</em></p><p>“Do you believe in ghosts, Harry?” Julie asks innocently.</p><p>“Ghosts?”</p><p>Crossing her arms, she raises an eyebrow, and her gaze flickers to something over his shoulder. But when he looks, there’s nothing but dense air.</p><p>“Your mother?”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>Her face falls quickly, whatever confidence she’d been showing off crumbling at his words. A new expression masks her features, <em>guarded</em>, <em>cold</em>… actually, the same Julie Molina that Carrie had described back on his first day.</p><p>“How do you know about my mom?” she asks, no—<em>demands.</em> “You weren’t even—you just got here. Not even three months ago, so how…?”</p><p>“It’s like I said: I’ve been wondering about you for <em>weeks</em>.”</p><p>“Well, <em>stop</em>.”</p><p>“Stop?”</p><p>“If you know what’s good for you, yeah.”</p><p>Harry can’t help it: he laughs loudly, pure amusement bubbling from his stomach. <em>She’s</em> threatening <em>him?</em> She’s <em>threatening</em> him! Ha!</p><p>A Magic 8 Ball bounces against the floor beside him. He flinches, quieting immediately, though his smile remains in tact.</p><p>“I’m not scared of you, Julie,” he insists.</p><p>The garage door slams shut. Harry jolts, staggering a few steps, hand flying to his heart.</p><p>Now, she smirks. “I think you should be.”</p><p>The air is hard to breathe. He feels there are eyes on him, watching his every move right down to the frantic rise and fall of his chest.</p><p>“I’ll ask again: do you believe in ghosts, Harry?”</p><p>“You’re a <em>freak,</em> Molina.”</p><p>“If you want to keep looking into me, fine. But if you’re going to keep being a jerk, then just remember.” Stepping forward, raising her chin, her lips curl smugly, staring down her nose at him. It’s irritating—<em>she’s</em> irritating.</p><p>“I have <em>friends</em> on the other side.”</p><p>The garage doors burst open.</p><p>His heart sinks.</p><p>But his eyes are alight with <em>something.</em></p><p>“Fine. Then challenge accepted, Julie.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0025"><h2>26. idk what to call this but it's protective!sunset curve (alex)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>prompt: "are they bothering you?"</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>so lolol i think i'm realizing alex is my favorite character to write angst for hahaaa sorry alex</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Alex recognizes them from music class. They’re great musicians, not that he’d ever admit it out loud. Maybe if they hadn’t cornered him like this after school, making Bobby and the others wait, he would’ve gladly told them how he liked their performances. The black haired guy especially—he had a drum solo this afternoon that easily blew Alex’s out of the water. Actually, Aex told him as much after class, but the guy had just ignored him. The reaction at the time had been weird. Now, Alex realizes what’s going on with a sinking feeling.</p><p>“Heard you were flirting with our friend today,” Chuck, a regularly mean guy who shredded on the guitar earlier, teases. “Is that so?”</p><p>“No.” Alex shakes his head. “No, no. I was just… I just told him his drum solo was cool.”</p><p><em>“His drum solo was cool,”</em> Chuck’s friend Dan mocks. His friends laugh. Alex’s cheeks burn.</p><p>“Must’ve been jealous, then.” Chuck snickers. “Since <em>your</em> solo was shit.”</p><p>Alex chews his lip, shoulders falling. He knows that isn’t true. Really, he does. His friends tell him all the time. Besides, he’s sure Sunset Curve wouldn’t be as successful if his drumming was <em>actually</em> shit. They’re going on tour this summer, after all!</p><p>But… but still, hearing it from a guy who is so obviously music inclined hurt a bit. Even if they aren’t friends.</p><p>Dan’s eyes flicker over Alex’s shoulder. He tugs on Chuck’s arm, muttering under his breath as their circle breaks. Dan leans against the lockers. Chuck stands next to him, arms crossed, face unreadable. John, the other drummer, keeps his eyes on the ground.</p><p>“Hey, Alex!” Reggie’s voice echoes down the hall. Alex’s breath catches as he turns. His friends Luke, Reggie, and Bobby make their way over.</p><p>Bobby glares at Dan, Chuck, and John until his gaze switches to Alex, then his face softens. “We’ve been waiting on you.”</p><p>“Are they bothering you?” Luke asks, eyes locked on Chuck.</p><p>Alex’s chest constricts. Shaking his head, he reaches for Luke’s arm. “No, dude. We were just… just talking. Come on.” He ignores Reggie’s concerned eyes looking him over as he turns away.</p><p>He doesn’t say anything until they’re almost to Bobby’s house. The rest of the car is quiet too, like they’re waiting for him to speak up first. Fat chance, though. He’s already trying to forget it.</p><p>Reggie finally breaks the silence. “What was that about back there?”</p><p>Alex feels like, sometimes, Bobby and Luke silently push Reggie to ask Alex about things. Maybe it’s because Alex can and will evade questions from them. They’re the most passionate about defending their friends, open and loud and ready to throw a punch if needed. They’re easy to brush off until they’re all more calm and ready to talk.</p><p>But Reggie is quiet and patient. He gets Alex the most, knowing he needs to talk and approaching it with a softer touch. He’s actually the hardest person for Alex to say no too; a perfect weapon.</p><p>Alex shifts in his seat, not looking at anyone. “I just, um… I talked to John after music. Told him his performance was cool. Guess he told his friends about it.”</p><p>Luke finally turns around, leaning on the middle console, eyes narrowed. “Did they do anything?”</p><p>Alex breathes a laugh, shaking his head. “I think you’d notice if they did something.”</p><p>“Did they say anything?” Bobby asks from the front seat.</p><p>“They—um.” Alex spins a drumstick between his fingers. “Chuck just said I was shit at drumming, but—”</p><p>“Okay, fuck him. I’m gonna punch him,” Luke promises, settling back into his seat with a huff. “Or cut the strings on his guitar.”</p><p>“You’ll get suspended,” Bobby warns.</p><p>“I don’t <em>care.”</em> Alex imagines Luke’s nostrils flaring angrily. “He doesn’t get to just say something like that! John doesn’t hold a fucking <em>candle</em> to Alex.”</p><p>“It’s not a big deal,” Alex protests halfheartedly. It doesn’t matter what he says now. Luke’s been suspended in the past for avenging his friends. It’s only a matter of time.</p><p>“It <em>is</em> a big deal,” Reggie argues. “He’s wrong. You’re freaking talented, you know that!”</p><p>“Yeah. Of course I do.”</p><p>Doesn’t hurt hearing it from someone other than himself sometimes, though.</p><p>As Bobby pulls into his driveway, Luke twists in his seat again. “Look at me,” he says, and Alex does. “Don’t listen to them. They’re assholes. You’re a damn good drummer. We wouldn’t keep you around if you weren’t.” Luke smirks.</p><p>“Wow, you are just <em>so</em> good at pep talks,” Bobby says dryly.</p><p>Alex snickers. “Thanks, Luke. All of you, thanks for having my back.”</p><p>Reggie leaned over, nudging him with his elbow. “You know we’re here for you, man. Always.”</p><p>“Especially with Chuck.” Luke shakes his head, popping open his door. “Dude is <em>ugly.”</em></p><p>“He looks like a thumb,” Bobby adds, earning a loud laugh from Luke.</p><p>Alex follows them inside, joking and laughing along. His chest is weightless, lungs free; he always feels lighter with them.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>thank you immensely for all of the kind, supportive comments!!!!! i read every one of them. they make me smile &amp; motivate me to continue writing. so, thanks again :))</p></blockquote></div></div>
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